Creedmoor has a new Stop sign. Actually, it showed up a few months ago. One day it was a Yield sign, next day it was a Stop sign.
Stop signs don’t always do well in these here parts, so I wasn’t sure it was going to last.
When I’m driving to work on Monday mornings, sometimes I see a Stop sign that has been rearranged, lying mostly parallel to the ground with the tell-tale tire tracks gouged into the dirt on either side of it.
Tsk, tsk, I say to myself. That Stop sign had a worse night than I did; I feel sorry for it. I come to a complete stop at the corner, giving it its due.
Sometimes a Stop sign just . . . disappears. One day it’s there, the next day it is no where in sight. Not hiding in the ditch, nearby. Not one red paint chip as a clue to remind us that it wasn’t our imagination.
This is confusing. Is the Stop sign supposed to be gone? Is it supposed to be there, but just isn’t? (I didn’t see a ransom note anywhere.)
This isn’t a problem unless there is another vehicle on the crossroad whose driver is used to everyone stopping only now we won’t be stopping because there is no Stop sign. It’s a guessing game as to what we think the other driver might be thinking about what we’re supposed to do on our side, with or without a Stop sign. It’s always a guessing game as to whether or not the other driver will stop at their Stop sign anyway, assuming it’s still there.
Eventually a new Stop sign shows up. Sometimes it looks a little different. It might be taller than the last one. Or shorter. Or set a little closer to the corner, or not as close to the corner, as if someone is practicing Feng Shui for traffic controls.
Bad Stop sign kharma. That must be it.