Tag Archives: confusing signs

Safety First

This morning, cautiously breathing light brown air while sitting next to an air purifier, I flipped through my photos and realized how many signs concern safety. Not that their messages offer much help. Here’s one from a salon:

Interesting tactic: Brag about what you won’t sell. But which ingredients are on the banned list? Pondering that, I’m more likely to wander into traffic than to keep my body safe from whatever this company won’t sell.

From body to clothing:

Silly me! Here I thought Well Looked After, not to mention Spotlessly Clean, was a given for a Dry Cleaning shop — the equivalent of “Come on in! This room has a floor!”

At least those places take responsibility for their actions. This one off-loads it:

Which PARENTS? Only those in the neighborhood, or every parent in the city (or state or continent or universe)? And which children? Just your own? Or can you ignore a random three-year-old toddling through the gate toward, say, a giant machine digging a huge hole?

It’s all too much. I’m ready for what this sign offers:

It may be the effects of smoky air, but I can’t help wondering if there actually is anywhere with peace of mind these days. If you find such a spot, do let me know so I can travel there From New York. In the meantime, stay safe!

Shameless plug: I’m teaching an online, one-day class called “How to Explain Anything” on August 19, 2023, from 1 – 4 Eastern Daylight Time. See www.hugohouse.org for details.

Numbers Game

Recently I heard an AI-generated voice announce that the next bus stop would be “One Oh First Street.” Huh? I’d made peace with the same voice on a different bus alerting me to the stop for “Central Park TraVERSE” (accent on the second syllable, missing N) instead of “TRANSverse” (accent on the first syllable). But “One Oh First”?

With numbers, accuracy matters. Unfortunately no one told the person who designed this description of the M15 bus route:

Check the middle: E 23 St, E 34 St, E 29 St, E 42 St. In other words, after stopping on E 23 St (East 23rd Street), the bus zips to E 34 St (East 34th Street) and then doubles back to E 29 St (East 29th Street), whereupon it loops up to E 42 St (East 42nd Street). Mathematicians, NYC Transit needs you!

So does Social Security:

Check the age groups. According to this ad, if you’re 71, 72, 73, or 74, you’re out of luck. No new benefit for you!

This message popped up on my friend Catherine’s computer. It has all the right numbers, but the meaning is bonkers:

For non-techies, 404 is a computer-generated code indicating that you’ve entered a wrong or obsolete web address. The numbers are supposed to be followed by what Wikipedia calls “a human readable reason phrase.” Well, I’m human and I read, but I fail to see reason here. How can you find something that doesn’t exist? That’s a question for philosophers, as are these: If I’ve reached that page, does my computer exist? Do I?

This page does exist, thanks to those who creatively mangle the English language. Keep at it, people! We need reasons to smile. And if you spot silly signs, please send them to me along with the snarky comments they inspire. With your help, Grammarian in the City will never be a 404.

Body Parts

I’m hoping the proofreader was napping when the headlines and signs in this post got the final okay, because if they’re accurate, somebody better call the Board of Health.

First up is a coronation-week special:

I believe even the most ardent anti-monarchist would agree that Charles’ bowels are off limits. The phrase this headline writer aspired to is “shot across the bows,” which arose from the 18th century practice of firing a warning shot over the fore-end of ship, not the nether end of a king.

More horrifying is this label, sent by my friend Terena:

Epic auto-correct fail? Cannibalism? You decide.

Onward to this confusing, but harmless, awning:

I stood in front of this store for a while, trying to decide which of my feet is the back one. Quadruped customers don’t have this problem.

Presumably this shop takes care of any body part:

I didn’t go in. I have no desire to Relive Stress. Once was enough! Nor do I want to Pour my Digestion out. I may ask for help with my foot (the back one), which is sore because of Over Use in Jares. (Say it aloud and it makes sense: in jah rees — “injuries.”)

Until next time, take care of all your body parts. And proofread!

Job Hunting

Looking for work? Perhaps one of the jobs mentioned in these signs is for you. This one, for example:

I’ve never met any Costumers, if that word refers to professionals who sew outfits that turn you into someone or something else. I have met a lot of people wearing costumes. Do they count as costumers? Both groups, I imagine, would appreciate the opportunity to have their very own restroom, though it might be a bit crowded around Halloween.

Maybe you’d like a job in this grocery store:

What does a miner mine in a supermarket? Or Is the store participating in the construction (actually, constrction, as the sign spells it) of miners? I don’t want a job here, but I would like one of those metal hats with a lamp attached. (If any costumers are reading this, please get in touch.)

I don’t want to neglect nonhuman readers. (Chat GPT, this may be of interest to you!) Here’s a caption from a recent New York Times article:

The print is small, so I’ll retype the caption here: “Machines could help ease a caregiving crisis in Italy, where many prefer to live with their aging relatives.” I wonder which aging relatives the machines prefer to live with: eight-track tape players? The Italian equivalent of Radio Shack computers? A 1910 Alfa Romeo? Not to get too English-teachery, but pronouns do need antecedents, and many is no exception.

This one is straightforward. Sexist, but straightforward:

Whether you’re spending time with machine families or humans (costumers, miners, pizza people), I hope you enjoyed this post. And if you didn’t, we apologies!

Your Guess Is as Good as Mine

What’s clear in a writer’s head is not necessarily clear in readers’ minds. This truth I learned the hard way during my first year of teaching, when I directed students to “answer true or false” on a pop quiz. Not a few wrote true or false after every question. With this episode in mind, I sympathize with these sign writers. No doubt they thought their meaning was obvious. It isn’t.

First up is this sign, which I spotted in a restaurant window:

I won’t even speculate about the meaning of dishrealated. I’d rather focus on intolerance issue. If the chefs indeed have a solution for intolerance, I hope they share the recipe. The world needs as many servings as possible, STAT.

The world might need this product, too:

Um . . . I know the product has SEED in it, with Detox is the goal. The words in the green band mean . . . well, I don’t know what they mean! Frankly, I find this sign a little scary.

One last puzzle:

Are those quotation marks equivalent to a wink and a nod signalling that “officially there’s NO PARKING but you can park here anyway”? Or is the writer attempting to emphasize NO? And where does HAZARD fit in? Is there NO PARKING HAZARD?

Because your guesses are as good as mine, I hope you’ll share them with me in the comments.

And the winner is . . .

This being awards season, I thought I’d structure today’s post as a contest. Which sign wins your vote for “most nonsensical”?

The first contestant is an offer:

WE BUY . . . CASH and TURN it INTO CA$H). Interesting concept — almost as strange as trying to TURN YOUR OLD BOY FRIENDS into CA$H. I suggest changing BOY FRIENDS to BOYFRIEND’S, thereby averting arrest by more than the grammar cops.

The next sign could win an illogic contest:

I can understand (sort of) how you can Shop for something that’s FREE. But why would you have to Save to have enough money to pay nothing?

This book cover, sent by my friend Ellie, is another strong contender:

Read this book if you want to know where to go on a date with, say, a two-story bungalow or a skyscraper. I do have one question: Is there a Tinder for the brick-and-mortar crowd?

My vote goes to this sign, which graces the door of a nearby food shop:

How can a CHICKEN, FREE RANGE or not, be HARVESTED? Scratch that question: I’m not sure I want to know! A similar sign appears inside the store, where photos are not allowed. It touts lamb, which, the sign declares, was also HATCHED, RAISED, & HARVESTED IN THE USA. Are lambs HATCHED from giant Easter eggs? Asking for a friend.

Select your favorite and, better yet, send me photos of other signs that make you smile.

Restaurant Reviews

Hungry? You might try these restaurants (or not). First up is a shocking sign I spotted a few blocks from my apartment:

I wasn’t shocked at the pairing of SNACKS and VAPES. Legend has it that people get the munchies” when they vape. But I couldn’t imagine what would qualify as EXOTIC SNACKS in New York City, where just about every cuisine is not only available but ubiquitous.

Then I noticed this sign, sent by my friend Terena:

Now that’s an EXOTIC SNACK (and a generous dietary limit)! I think I’ll avoid this restaurant, as well as the restaurant displaying the sign below, sent by my friend Sean:

No word on Yelp about any of these businesses. To me, that’s a good sign.

An Attentive Pedestrian

Readers with sharp eyes and a keen sense of humor often send me photos of signs they’ve spotted around the city. These are from Constance, an attentive pedestrian whose witty observations brightened my day.

First up is this gem:

Should wheelchair users head in the opposite direction or move backwards in the direction indicated by the arrow?

Now to the river:

The caption on the sign is rather small, so I’ll reproduce it here: “For your safety please keep to the right.” Are pedestrians expected to balance on the railing or dive off the walkway? And how does either option enhance your safety?

Onward to a shopping district:

Is this sign the reason I see so many discarded masks on the sidewalk? Can a mask, or a mask-wearer, sue for being denied entry?

Have these muddled messages given you a headache? If so, this sign will probably not help:

How far away is the Pharmacy when it’s not on lunch break?

Please feel free to send me your answers, along with photos of silly signs you’ve encountered.

Goodbye, 2022

My last post of the year, written during this busy holiday/winter-storm/school-vacation season. First up is a cafe menu. Pay attention to the third-to-last line:

CAESAR CONTAINS NUTS, does he? What a clever way to indicate that power corrupts! Or maybe it’s an indictment of Nero, Julius, Augustus, and other CAESARS?

Next is a message from a dry-cleaning shop. It’s a poor quality photo, so I’ll reproduce the words: BUSINESS IS MOVING FROM JUNE TO A NEW PLACE.

A NEW PLACE? Like July or October? What was wrong with JUNE? Too many weddings and graduations?

Now to Seatac Airport in Seattle:

It took me two days to decode this sentence, partly because I lose my mind when I’m traveling and partly because there’s a missing comma. I kept reading the message as FIRE ELEVATORS, a noncombustible (and most likely nonexistent) subset of ELEVATORS. I think we can all agree that IN CASE OF FIRE, signs with instantly obvious instructions are preferable. (With that in mind, I’d be happy to proofread this airline’s signs in exchange for a free trip. If you’re an executive with Alaska Airlines, leave a comment and I’ll get back to you.)

Finally, a van parked on my block:

Wouldn’t it be nice to hire this company for the stock market? The economy could use a BOOM right around now.

BOOM or not, I wish you a peaceful, joyful, healthy 2023.

Traffic Jam on the Information Highway

Signs and labels are supposed to offer information, but sometimes the message doesn’t reach its destination. Take a look at this ice cream container I bought recently:

I admit I’d never given much thought to where the cherries in Cherry Vanilla ice cream came from until I read this label’s proud claim to country-harvested fruit. Ever loyal to my urban home, I hesitated before dropping the package into my cart, wondering whether I should search for ice cream made with city-harvested cherries. Unfortunately, Second Avenue is not rife with orchards. Even Orchard Street on the Lower East Side is treeless these days. So I bought the product, reasoning that the label’s reference to vanilla and cherry flavor with other natural flavors and cherry pieces implies more lab-harvesting than anything else, and the lab could indeed be in my home city.

Onward to Broadway, courtesy of my friend Orli:

As Orli pointed out, the construction of this sentence depicts Audra McDonald as packed with suspense. Anyone who’s ever seen her perform knows that Ms. McDonald is packed with talent, which no amount of suspense can replace. I, for one, plan to buy a ticket.

Now to the front door of a medical office:

Verbally granted access? Um … okay, if you say so ( and you literally must, according to this sign). Yet I can’t help wondering what other type of granted access doesn’t measure up at this location. Are buzzers banned? If I enter through the door an exiting, silent patient holds open, will I be thrown out?

As always, theories welcome. And as we approach whatever wave of the pandemic is next, I hope you stay safe!