Growing up, there didn’t seem to be the plethora of road works there are today. Incidentally, I did not actually drive an automobile whilst growing up. Well, apart from those times Dad let me take the wheel. Shh, such a rush at the age of 9. Prior to that it was a cardboard box with paper plate wheels glued to the side, and I definitely didn’t encounter road works in that hot rod. In fact, it never needed servicing and it was incredibly fuel efficient for something that didn’t go above 5km/hr. So, I have absent memories of the currently omnipresent fluorescent vests, obnoxious giant Tonka trucks, and unnecessary witches hat formations at every intersection.
It’s as if there is some almighty being out there, commanding more roads, bigger roads, with never ending tunnels. Are we forever pleasing the fearful Road God? Surely the ancient Romans must think we are pedantic, possessed even. It’s never enough.
And when approaching road works, our thoughts are rarely, ‘Stunning! I can’t wait to drive over this wonderfully smooth section of bitumen. Keep up the fantastic, ever so productive work!’ In fact it’s usually more along the lines of,
‘What the..? Ok, phew, it’s not an RBT. All good. Yes, I know, I’m already going slow from the 57 signs beforehand. I don’t need you to point at your anal, swiveling ‘slow’ sign. I can’t go any slower. Perhaps I should drive backwards and reverse the hands of time. Would that be slow enough? You know, I could hold a ‘SLOW’ sign for a job, but I’d wear a Batman mask or something, maybe even a sad clown face. Perhaps drivers would actually think I was slow if I did that. No, never, my personal traffic sign would say, ‘AWESOME’, no exclamation mark. I wonder if these Council road workers also wear fluorescent orange lingerie?’
And those thoughts are just for the first 2 metres of the road works. Meanwhile, some concentration is required to navigate through the witches hat maze, plotted by some unfulfilled lunatic who will eventually take over the world. Good God, it’s like being in The Labyrinth. Surely, you’ve all seen David Bowie in lycra at your local road works. Hint: pay attention to the passing cyclists.
Night road works are particularly special…if you have taken elicit drugs. Why do you think there are so many ‘REDUCE SPEED’ signs in the area? They’re really just roadside Doofs with the highway audio lines as a soundtrack. They’re neon, flashing extravaganzas for a rave against the machine. What, you’ve never seen anyone make out with a bobcat before?
My personal favourite is the road works illusion. It’s like an oasis in the desert. You notice the ‘SLOW DOWN’ signs in the lead up, then the giant, orange lego blocks to the side of the road, then well, that’s it. There is no roadwork at all. ‘Ah, those crazy, practical joking roadside workers. Ha, I slowed down and merged for no reason. Whaddya know, joke’s on me.’
I know, who am I to complain? Welcome to the glorious hall of first world effwits. Yes, I could just walk. In fact, I was actually held up by a road worker holding a ‘STOP’ sign whilst walking along a bike path under construction.‘Dude, I’m walking’. Incredibly odd. It did, however, give me the idea to use my own stop sign in everyday situations. For example, if someone complains to me about the weather, ‘STOP’. And after a period of sufficient silence from them I might hold up a ‘GIVE WAY’ sign.
Surprised is the way I feel after experiencing roadwork. I’m surprised that the roads need so much work. I’m surprised at the mysterious way in which the work occurs.
You see, when I drive past cows in a field, they just look like they’re standing there, doing nothing. And yet, somehow over time, the grass is eaten, and they move on to greener pastures. I drive too fast to observe all of this. So, picture the cows in fluorescent vests and hard hats, lining our bitumen roads. Yes, they appear to be standing there, doing nothing. But, a few months, even years later, they move on to graze more tar.
I like to pretend that the ‘End’ is a verb when viewing this sign
END ROADWORK
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