Please find below an email I received on Saturday afternoon:
“The stop sign at the neighborhood entrance with our street name on it has been on the ground for the last week. Could you get someone out here sometime to address this issue? Delivery trucks have no idea where we are because of the fallen sign.”
There are more than 30 homes in this particular community, with an average of 2.5 occupants in each home, so we’re looking at roughly 70 residents who wander past this sign every day, one of whom plowed into it, 68 of whom ignored it, and, finally, one of whom thoughtfully emailed to bring the issue to my attention. Ten days after the fact. On a holiday weekend.
Oh, actually, wait, let me update the numbers: Another homeowner just wrote in, furious about the downed street sign and demanding to know why management hasn’t rectified the situation. So the current count is 67 ignores, one heads up, one apoplectic tirade, and one elusive douche-fountain who knocked the damn thing over in the first place. Almost two weeks ago.
Yet another reason to thank the Gods for keeping me sober, because there is no effing way I could handle this shit drunk.