Pylons
Here it is in the early part of Tuesday morning ... I am at work ... I was late getting here this morning due to road construction.
Here's a question: Why is it that they (the idiots who plan road construction) stripped the G-D pavement down to nearly gravel just as school was ending ... only to leave it until today (the day before school starts again) to begin paving it? I mean seriously, people ... where is the sense? Tomorrow is going to be a harrowing day for any commuter. I live in a rural community. It isn't like I am in a city ... where there is traffic, but the first day of school is unpleasant as far as driving to work is concerned. Anyway ... I was late. Namely because I sat - stopped - for ... get this ... FOURTEEN MINUTES. There was no traffic ... seriously, people ... livestock could have taken me to my place of business faster.
I sat there ... watching the iron faced flagger gal. She was smoking. By looking at her face, I'd say she's been a smoker for some time... quite possibly one could say the same about her occupation. I could smell her smoke in my car and with every sniff that came through my air system, the urge to smother her by stuffing her hard hat into her throat grew. I know it isn't her fault the D.O.T is run by obtuse meat heads that couldn't schedule a lunch break much less the resurfacing of an entire secondary highway. It's just that they seem to become the object of my frustration in a mad hurry. Fourteen minutes is too long. There simply isn't enough traffic on that road to justify it.
Four cars went by me ... FOUR. But for whatever the reason, the brilliant stock that planned this little job felt it necessary to employ the use of a "follow me" truck to assist with guiding all us country bumpkins through a straight line of road - clearly marked with BRIGHT ORANGE PYLONS. See, here's the problem ... they assume that we are as dumb as they are ... and plan accordingly. I have little doubt not a single member of the crew would be able to figure out where to drive without the help of the little truck with the 'follow me' sign tacked to the tailgate. I am, in fact, quite certain there is intensive training for this coveted post on the crew.
I totally understand that road construction is an important part of infrastructure - especially somewhere with weather as nuts a Nova Scotia. The frost and the melting ... the roads (like the temperature) are up and down like a bubble in a piss pot. I guess I would have an easier time respecting the job if I didn't drive past construction site after construction site seeing the blatant incompetence shine out into the universe like a flashing neon sign. Groups of orange vested and yellow helmeted men (and occasionally what appears to be women) standing around ... watching one guy work. I actually witnessed the guy in the white hat (the foreman) SCRATCHING HIS ASS!!! This is not a safe practice ... to allow people who are late for work, witness you scratching your ass.
I suppose it is not dissimilar to how it works in an office. The guy at the top stands around scratching his ass all day and as the pay scale decreases, the workload increases ... until you get down to the lowest level - in the case of the construction crew, that would be flaggers ... in the case of an office, it would be the greeter/receptionist position. These are the people who need to get danger pay. They are the ones that stand in front of all the blatant incompetence oozing down hill toward them daily. Alas ... as with much of today's world - injustice prevails and "little guy"s all over the world sigh in semi-silent protest.
Here's to a construction free trip home!
Here's a question: Why is it that they (the idiots who plan road construction) stripped the G-D pavement down to nearly gravel just as school was ending ... only to leave it until today (the day before school starts again) to begin paving it? I mean seriously, people ... where is the sense? Tomorrow is going to be a harrowing day for any commuter. I live in a rural community. It isn't like I am in a city ... where there is traffic, but the first day of school is unpleasant as far as driving to work is concerned. Anyway ... I was late. Namely because I sat - stopped - for ... get this ... FOURTEEN MINUTES. There was no traffic ... seriously, people ... livestock could have taken me to my place of business faster.
I sat there ... watching the iron faced flagger gal. She was smoking. By looking at her face, I'd say she's been a smoker for some time... quite possibly one could say the same about her occupation. I could smell her smoke in my car and with every sniff that came through my air system, the urge to smother her by stuffing her hard hat into her throat grew. I know it isn't her fault the D.O.T is run by obtuse meat heads that couldn't schedule a lunch break much less the resurfacing of an entire secondary highway. It's just that they seem to become the object of my frustration in a mad hurry. Fourteen minutes is too long. There simply isn't enough traffic on that road to justify it.
Four cars went by me ... FOUR. But for whatever the reason, the brilliant stock that planned this little job felt it necessary to employ the use of a "follow me" truck to assist with guiding all us country bumpkins through a straight line of road - clearly marked with BRIGHT ORANGE PYLONS. See, here's the problem ... they assume that we are as dumb as they are ... and plan accordingly. I have little doubt not a single member of the crew would be able to figure out where to drive without the help of the little truck with the 'follow me' sign tacked to the tailgate. I am, in fact, quite certain there is intensive training for this coveted post on the crew.
I totally understand that road construction is an important part of infrastructure - especially somewhere with weather as nuts a Nova Scotia. The frost and the melting ... the roads (like the temperature) are up and down like a bubble in a piss pot. I guess I would have an easier time respecting the job if I didn't drive past construction site after construction site seeing the blatant incompetence shine out into the universe like a flashing neon sign. Groups of orange vested and yellow helmeted men (and occasionally what appears to be women) standing around ... watching one guy work. I actually witnessed the guy in the white hat (the foreman) SCRATCHING HIS ASS!!! This is not a safe practice ... to allow people who are late for work, witness you scratching your ass.
I suppose it is not dissimilar to how it works in an office. The guy at the top stands around scratching his ass all day and as the pay scale decreases, the workload increases ... until you get down to the lowest level - in the case of the construction crew, that would be flaggers ... in the case of an office, it would be the greeter/receptionist position. These are the people who need to get danger pay. They are the ones that stand in front of all the blatant incompetence oozing down hill toward them daily. Alas ... as with much of today's world - injustice prevails and "little guy"s all over the world sigh in semi-silent protest.
Here's to a construction free trip home!
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