Bossing other people around is fun, isn’t it? Being bossed around, not so much. How many people do you think obey commands that appear on signs in NYC? Enough to sit comfortably on a beach towel, I imagine, based on what I generally see. Maybe that’s why this sign seems to sigh with resignation right before it screams:

Fine, “Management” implies, I know you may take a puff or bite or sip, but don’t even think about skating into my store. I hung out for a half hour without glimpsing a single wheel. Nor did I see any cigarettes or snacks — just one water bottle peeking out from a handbag. Verdict: This sign is a rarity. It’s effective.
Not so these:


I could have snapped six more shots of signs prohibiting bicycles, each surrounded by bicycles locked to the railing, but you get the point. If any locks have been cut off and bicycles removed, new ones have sprung up in their place.
Some commands just beg to be disobeyed:

This sign makes me want to stay put. Alas, New York is always on the move, so that wasn’t an option. The next sign (courtesy of my friend Catherine) makes me want to move, quickly, to somewhere — anywhere — else:

Please explain what Fido is supposed to do if the curb is shut off. (At least the hyphen is right!) On second thought, please do not explain what Fido is supposed to do if the curb is shut off. I’d prefer not to know.
One more thought: The sign that accompanies each blog post (“Don’t Block the Box”) commands drivers to stay out of the intersection unless they’re sure they can drive through before the light changes. Yesterday, I did an informal survey. Cars blocked 9 out of 10 “boxes.” Pedestrians (including me) wove between vehicles, making what should be a straight path in a crosswalk into a curvy, almost choreographed, group dance. No one (including me) looked surprised or upset. Just another day in New York City.











If they’re “certified,” they can’t be that bad, right? Don’t ask me what they’re “certified” in (or “of,” as the sign says). At least they’re in NY — well, make that “Ny,” but nothing’s perfect. Not even verbals.







Surely you weren’t planning on ushering guests into a room with a naked table! A four-legged pair of jeans would do nicely for a hip, can’t-be-bothered-to-dress-up dinette set. An evening gown with a very wide skirt saves formal hosts from the embarrassment of an underdressed eating surface. No hint from the shopkeeper about what sort of “table clothes” are available. If the customer isn’t pleased with the styles on sale, “sheets” could possibly preserve the table’s modesty.

The bullet point in front of “house” was odd because there were no other items on the sign, hence no bulleted list. But if I’m opting to tinker with punctuation, I’m going for a comma after “house.” That comma would create a direct address statement appropriate to this holiday season: “House, hold items [so I don’t have to].” See? Shopping-stress relief!



Unanswered Question: What happened to the candlestick maker?


Do you call the front desk for “boom service,” and if so, how much do you tip the guy who lowers the boom? How do you delivery a “jobsite”? And what does a “boom service” showroom show?

