This is a plea to the drawbridge on U.S. 1 between North Palm Beach and PGA Blvd.
Stop going up when I’m trying to get to work.
Honestly. You’re upsetting me.
Let’s cut to the core of the issue. You see, the thing is this. I leave my apartment at around seven-thirty each morning. I have a 12 mile commute up U.S. 1 to work. I start work promptly at eight a.m. Between me and my destination, there are approximately seven traffic lights, spread across three towns. There is also yourself.
The traffic lights do not concern me. It is you, and you alone, that defeat me on a near daily basis.
When you go up to let some random rich person cruise through on their sailboat, you’re causing me a great deal of inconvenience. This isn’t limited to me, though. There’s a lot of us out there, in our Ford Contours, our Nissan Stanzas, hell, our Volkswagen Golfs, and we’re all desperately trying to get to work on time. We honestly don’t care if you don’t open the bridge, and the rich person crashes their rich person boat straight into the bridge, causing it to capsize and subsequently break like matchsticks against the rocky shore. Broken boats do not concern us.
Of course, there is the matter of your structural integrity, if you were to allow boats to simply crash into you. I wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk. I will let you make that call based upon your past experiences, as you’ve been a drawbridge for much longer than I’ve been driving across them.
I don’t want to make a federal case out of this. I realize that, as a drawbridge, you have certain needs, and society expects a certain behavior out of you. A standard you are expected to maintain on a daily, no, an hourly basis. I understand that this can be a great burden for you. So, I cannot ask you to simply stop doing your job. That’d be inappropriate, unethical and unprofessional for the both of us.
I’m just asking for a little leniency.
I know what you look like. I see you every day. I’m sure you know what I look like, too. Don’t deny it. I’m up there, every day, at the head of that line, waiting for those gates to go back up. You’ve seen me. Here’s what I’m asking. If you see me barreling towards you, headlights flashing, windshield wipers scraping dirt around on a dry day, and, quite possibly, horn blaring, do me a favor and just stay down for a good thirty seconds more.
How long is thirty seconds? It’s nothing. It’s practically like not waiting at all. This might be too much to ask, though. See, I’m not aware of your true motivations. I can only infer.
This might just be how you get your jollies.
Is that it? Is that how it’s going to be, then? You get your rocks off by making young upstarts like myself late for work? That’s how you have your fun?
That’s despicable.
I see how it’s going to be, though. I tried to reason with you, but now I see what you’re really like.
Just you wait, drawbridge on U.S. 1 just south of PGA Boulevard. You’ll get yours.
Just you wait.
Tags: Harrowing Tales
Cute! I like it!!