Of One-Way Streets and Transvestites

This is the first in a series of posts in which I come to terms with the world. I cannot guarantee how many posts there will be, nor how often I will write, but I can promise this: You’ll like the way you look. I guarantee it.

 
I recently ventured to Madison, where, among other things, I took a picture with a large bratwurst participating in an“Underwear Run.”


Surprisingly that wasn’t the highlight of my weekend, however the highlight of my weekend isn’t suitable for the blog—I’ll save it for the police report.

I can definitely tell you about the low point of my weekend, though. Now I don’t like to complain, but there are some things that anger me. One of them is one-way roads. If you are like me, and avoid one-way roads like the plague, I advise you to stay out of Madison. There’s nothing wrong with one-way roads, just like there’s nothing wrong with kryptonite. But some of us can’t handle them. They were well marked and everyone else seemed to get around fine, but if I had a dollar for every time I turned the wrong way on a one-way street, I’d have enough money to buy a pack of gum (maybe two).


It’s probably just the way I was brought up, to be against the idea of one-way streets. It just doesn’t make sense to me. If you could configure a road, why would you make it go only one direction? Then people would have to go out of their way to get where they need to be.

Usually you’ll only come accross one-way roads in rural areas.  Thus the occasional one-way road in an urban area really takes you for a ride. They’re very uncommon, but common-enough where when you encounter one you have to do a double take. So if you think about it, one-way streets are kind of like transvestites.

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