For the last two weeks I've endured traffic delays in what most of you might consider the middle of fucking nowhere. I live in the hills...coyotes, hawks and an owl hunt the field behind my place. Deer and racoons are common. Every now and then I'll have a half dozen or so cows in the yard 'cause they escaped from down the road. Whatever. Saves me from mowin'.
They've been patching my road (which didn't really need it, by the way) for the last two weeks. Big-ass machines ripping up the asphalt and flinging it into dumptrucks and bigger-ass machines laying down new pavement and could-give-a-shit workers leaning on shovels all fucking day on my fucking dime.
So I come home today, after totally denying OB's offer of a Jameson (I swear that bastard wants me to join him on the dark side...come to the dark side...we have
Oh, no you don't.
I pull out and go around and the traffic guy goes apeshit. He runs out waving his little stop sign like I just entered Area 51 or some shit like that. I put my turn signal on and point to my place...repeatedly. He's on some kind of traffic-guy-with-a-stop-sign power trip so he don't care. If they gave 'em guns I would have been shot for ignoring the authority of the guy with the sign. Fuck you.
I lean out the window and yell, "I live RIGHT THERE". He finally understands and yay, I get to pull into my own fucking driveway.
Feed the cats, go get the mail, talk to the guy. I apologize. "Dude, I live right here...I'm not waiting to get home when I already am. Sorry about that.". His excuse was he didn't see my turn signal. Yawn.
So asked him what the fuck? Why did they spend two weeks patching the road and then re-pave the whole damned thing? He shrugged. Didn't make sense to him either.
He could care, I reckon...job's a job now-a-days. And that's a pretty sad commentary on the State Of The Nation. I'd like to equate it with building freeways during the Great Depression but it isn't the same. Back then they were trying to put the nation back to work. Now they're just raping it for profit.