Reading the signs

I was stopped in a line of cars as a three-truck crew painted lines on a roadway. The last truck was fully stopped; it seemed to have the job of regulating traffic. One impatient driver tried to get around the jam. He drove over some freshly painted lines, and having no space to advance, just stopped.

An operator exited the truck, walked to the back of the vehicle, and, exasperated, pointed to the flashing lights and large signs that read, “WET PAINT. DO NOT PASS.”

Sometimes all the signs are there, right in front of us.

And still, we just can’t seem to take them seriously.