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Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Very Disconcerting Signs
Which is probably not the intention that the creators of the sign had in mind, but it is exactly what it made me think. You see, I'm from Iowa, so I find it difficult to keep up with the current events in Laredo, Texas. Without the sign, I might have been inclined to say, "Laredo" Sure. What the hell. Why not stop in Laredo?"
With the sign, however, I am more inclined to think, "Holy shit, if they have to put up a giant sign telling me that it is safe in Laredo, then there is no way in hell I am going anywhere near the place! Good God (and baby Jesus, and the heroes of the Alamo), they don't even put up signs like that when you're going to Detroit, and that's Detroit, for Christ sake!"
So, Just for fun, I dropped by the website. It's pretty much what I had expected. It's got some terrific non-information, like, "...homicide rates lower than Houston..." and doesn't that just scream family vacation destination?! Laredo...at least we're not Houston!
Ideally, I'd like to try my luck at a truck stop in Laredo that ALSO advertises clean restrooms on roadsigns. I'd think it would sort of be the best of both worlds, you know?
This sign says to me, "You had better pick your shit up and keep this place clean, because we sure as hell aren't going to do it."
I experienced this for the first time when, in my relative youth (and at a time in my life when I still suffered from some form of acute irritable bowel syndrome), got off a subway ride in Washington, DC, only to discover that there were no public restrooms available anywhere, causing me to respond with a poop right on the convenience store counter (okay, not really, but I would have liked to).
Whatever the case, it still pisses me off whenever I see the sign anywhere. And it's almost always at a place where the dirty little guy behind the counter apparently hasn't showered in six weeks (maybe all of his running water is off?), like he is worried about my ass being that much dirtier than his that he has to keep from sharing the same toilet with me, or worse, God (and little baby Jesus, and the heroes of the Alamo) forbid that he actually provide toilet paper to customers, or anyone who hasn't bought a three dollar, ten year old hot dog out of the rotisserie rack (no. It has to be to keep the literary agents out. It's the only thing that makes any sense really).
Whatever. It makes me wish I was in Laredo though, where you might get killed by roving Mexican drug cartel members, but at least you'll be able to take a shit when you need to.
Thanks for Reading!