Category Archives: Snotty Comments on NYC Signs

Mocking double meanings and pretentious language on street signs and ads

I Can Only Hope

When Pandora opened her mythical box and the world’s evils flew out, what remained was hope. In these signs, grammar and spelling and punctuation have taken flight. This post concerns what I hope remains. First, skill with scissors:

I hope the proprietors are good barbers, because the salon is certainly not wasting any energy inserting an apostrophe in kids’ (or kid’s, if only one child is welcome as a “walk-in”). Fortunately, men’s is properly punctuated.

This sign directs my hope to falling (actually, NOT falling) masonry:

What do I hope? That the company maintaining the exterior walls looming over my head in NYC is better at pointing, painting, piping, and venting than it is at spelling. Verticle? Seriously? Moving on to moving:

Here I hope that every client’s move is a great experience. Were I to use this firm (not that I’m going anywhere except on vacation), I would hope for better grammar (our employees our?) and punctuation (safe positive?).

Last but definitely not least:

Where do I start? Spelling: seperate or softner? Subject-verb agreement: work include? Punctuation: double quotation marks for the first line and single for the second? And why any quotation marks at all? I think I’ll have this shop clean my clothes, which I hope will be handled with more care than this sign.

Hy-phen

I couldn’t resist inserting a hyphen where it doesn’t belong, “hyphen” being, well, un-hyphenated in proper English. I hope the title balances the scales a bit, because so often hyphens are omitted where they’re sorely needed. In this sign, for instance:

Okay, I admit I’m taking this one personally. My name is Woods, and I do have a kitchen. I also have a “specialty” (grammar), but except when I’m trying to follow a poorly written recipe, my “specialty” and “cooking” don’t intersect. Hence the need for a hyphen. If I’m “Specialty-Cooking Woods,” I’m frying a predicate nominative or baking an adjective with, perhaps, an adverbial sauce. If the hyphen slides to the right, this company delivers “Specialty Cooking-Woods.” I prefer to think of those products as cedar, oak, or something similar, though if the owners pay me enough, I’ll make dinner. My specialty is “Clean-Out-the-Refrigerator Soup.”

Before I leave this sign, I should address “Gourmet Hardwood Charcoal.” A “gourmet,” the dictionary tells me, is “a connoisseur of delicacies.” Thus this sign evokes foodies chowing down on “hardwood charcoal.” This is not a hyphen problem. It’s a dental, or perhaps a “Don’t you have anything better to do?” problem. Next up, employment:

Leaving aside the “team” issue (though customers are often treated as the competition), I’m choosing to focus on “Part Sales Mate.” Huh? If the position is “part-sales,” what’s the other part? Or is the job selling a “part”? And what’s with the “mate”? Are the owners seeking a “part-mate”? Part-mate, part-something else? I’m leaving this one in the “life’s too short to worry about stuff like this” bin.

Last, for today at least, as hyphen-problems reappear as often as villains in superhero films:

Two townhouses? Two compounds, each with two buildings? And in a “double garden,” do the veggies and flowers appears in pairs?

That’s it for today. I off in search of a garden, single or double, with or without gourmet woods.

Tell Me Where

Tell me where I should go when the streets are filled with motor vehicles and I see this sign:

I’m used to dodging texters, squadrons of cyclists, and an occasional Vespa on the sidewalk, but trucks? And will they hear me if I caution them for crossing sidewalk? Maybe I’ll just leave, as all packages referred to in this sign are directed to do:

At least I won’t be alone. In addition to packages, I’ll have doorman to protect me. Speaking of doorman, here’s a building notice that puzzles me:

I get that pofavor is short for por favor, part of a polite request in Spanish. But in front off bldg? Fortunately I don’t smoke, regardless of whether I’m on, off, or in front of a building. Or behind one, for that matter. I do drink wine. Maybe not the last one on this list, though:

I’m not keen to show ripe pear flavor on the nose, mine or anyone else’s. The mineral finish of the Riesling is more appealing, assuming the mineral isn’t something feldspar or mica, which I’ve never sampled but which I assume taste awful. And what’s a leading . . . finish? The middle wine looks like the best bet. Anyone care to join me off bldg for some Pinot Grigio? We can ignore the trucks crossing sidewalk and leave with doorman together, wine glasses in hand.

Individual, or Strip?

Really, it’s not a choice I have ever made or ever plan to make. But apparently some people do need to decide between “Individual, or Strip.” My question, in addition to why there’s a comma before “or,” concerns how an “Eyelash Application” decision is made:

On second thought, I don’t really want to know. I’d rather ponder still another eyelash dilemma:

So, a single eyelash walks into a bar . . . and gets 50% off? Or is the “first Eyelash” 50% off and all the others offered at the regular, or even double-the-regular price? (Sidepoint: Why capitalize “Eyelash”?) The whole thing sounds like a math problem to me: Calculate how much it will cost to have all your eyelashes visit. The answer may depend on whether you want your “first Eyelash visit” to be “Individual, or Strip.”

One last outrage of English, courtesy of my friend Ellie:

Nicotine-puffers can read this notice in columns (“No Safety / Smoking First”) and nonpuffers line by line (“No Smoking / Safety First”). I’m a nonpuffer but also a noncombatant in the “what does it mean?” war. I do wonder whether the letters were applied to the boat “Individual, or Strip.”

Nutritional Information Needed

It’s hard enough these days to know what to eat and drink. There are Keto, Paleo, and for all I know Beto diets. Nor do these signs don’t make the situation easier. In fact, they give rise to questions, which I pose here after each.

How many Arancini could Could Cuts cut if Could Cuts could cut Arancini?

What does a social taste like? And is tasting a social really an event?

Relying on sound, not spelling: Do letter carriers bring Poast Pork to your table?

It’s possible to pay for wine with an I.D? Alternate question: does wine carry its I.D. in a wallet?

Do diners with extra-strong teeth chew plates fresh from the kiln? Also, is there a worldwide shortage of hyphens?

Feel free to answer my questions, or pose your own.

Hair Today, Gone (Please!) Tomorrow

I’m not hoping for baldness but rather for a change in signage pertaining to hair. What is it about the human version of fur that obsesses us? I don’t know the answer, but I do know that these products and services are beyond ridiculous. An example:

First of all, I hope no one goes to this salon hoping that Francis Ford or Sofia are employed there as stylists. Second, botox? Seriously? Just what I’d like for my hair: a neurotoxin that causes paralysis.

Onward but not upward:

I could say quite a lot about this sign. For example: Why specify “goatee beard”? Is there a “goatee eyebrow” or a “goatee cheese” that I don’t know about? But the line that most interests me is “Crew Cut Senior Citizen.” For the record, I’m a senior citizen and I don’t have a crew cut. Nor do I want one. I prefer to read this as a headline for an article beginning “The crew of the USS Scissors cut a senior citizen yesterday. NCIS is investigating.”

Another non-beauty:

This photo and the previous one are from different salons. Perhaps they share a grammarian (or rather, they should share one). In both, apostrophes are a problem. (“Children Haircut”? Men Haircut?) Also, both offer the customer a “shape up.” Presumably the $20 version comes with a trainer, diet plan, and access to exercise equipment. For $10, the salon owner just yells at you until get your act together.

That’s it for today. I have an appointment to get my hair cut, because, as this salon put it, I need an “edit”:

Do take photos of your favorite hair signs before, like the “summer edit festival,” they’re gone.

Food and Drink

Can’t do without food and drink, right? But I can certainly do without the silliness that appears permanently attached to them on the signs and menus of New York. This one, for instance:

Which hero are we talking about? Wonder Woman, in a traditionally female role? Batman, grilling in the Bat Cave (a traditionally male role)? Or The Flash, serving super-fast food? Also, how does a burger get “certified”? That last question is apparently a serious issue, as some meat producers object to the term “burger” for anything that doesn’t contain meat. They want to prohibit the term “veggie burger,” for instance, and substitute . . . well, that’s not clear. Maybe patty? disk? puck? The menus of America need a hero to step in and solve this language problem.

Speaking of menus:

I can’t decide whether this restaurant is patting customers on the back for ordering a treat that sounds vaguely nutritious or castigating them for ordering any pastry at all. Also, what’s with the “by”? I’d expect the preposition “from,” reserving “by” for works of art (a painting by Rembrandt, for example). I guess the restaurant wants customers to see these creations as masterpieces. And for all I know (I didn’t order any), they are.

I didn’t take advantage of what this sign offers, either:

At least it’s not “outdoor.” If I were ever tempted to grill myself, I’d prefer a little privacy.

Time to wash down all this food:

These days, it is indeed “special” to encounter honesty, which is reason enough to order and pay for two drinks.

In a Fix

When you feel the world is falling apart, you may want to remind yourself that repairs are possible. Mostly. I’m not too sure about some of these signs. This one, for example:

Equip?

There’s room for “equipment” on this placard, so I can only suppose that somebody thought “equip” was a good quip. I beg to differ. Then there’s “don’t matter.” Without punctuation, this may be saying that “any equip don’t matter,” but “doesn’t” works better there. At least the apostrophe is correct.

Not so in this sign:

Before they repair anything else, they should fix the punctuation, specifically by adding an apostrophe to “lets.” They could fix the grammar, too: “tablets and phones” are plurals, and “it” isn’t.

Surely this is an unnecessary fix:

Renovation? Unless they’re planning to paint the dirt green and plaster over the gopher holes, I think spring and Mother Nature can do what’s necessary. I may be wrong, as my experience of nature is limited, given that I live in New York City. Also, how exactly does someone close a lawn? Not this way, judging from the number of squirrels romping around.

Maybe they can be lured away from the lawn, to this shop:

What self-respecting squirrels wouldn’t want to fix their fur here, with “repairing especially”? Balding rodents may opt for “reweaving” instead. My preference is for sign renovation, but I’m not holding my breath while I wait for grammar errors to be fixed.

Sign-Spotters

What would I do without the sharp eyes and excellent grammar skills of my friends? This post is fashioned from the silly signs and ads they spotted. First up features a rather unappetizing menu item, noted by my friend Helen:

Liced?

I’m sure that she ordered an insect-free beverage. Or at least I hope so!

Catherine found this one:

Can other types of snakes relax there?

I imagine a “rattlesnake hammock” as a long, narrow sling, perhaps with some curves built in. I hope there’s a special pocket for the rattle. Imagine trying to warn off predators only to discover that the tip of your tail is caught on the cloth!

My friend Marlene discovered these two beauties on an academic website and sent me the links. I neglected to take a screen shot, so I’ll simply quote. Here’s the first:

TWO YEAR OLD TEACHER NEEDED

About a week later, this appeared:

THREE YEAR OLD TEACHER TO START ASAP

As Marlene noted, “They upped the age, probably because there were no inquiries from two-year-old teachers.” The school certainly sounds desperate! If you’re three and jobless, consider applying.

And if you notice any other linguistic absurdities, please send them ASAP, regardless of how old you are.

Please Explain

Every once in a while — okay, every day — I find a sign that puzzles me. I like puzzles, mostly, but I also like answers. With that in mind, I’m posting four signs, hoping readers will enlighten me. First up:

Does this mean it’s okay to garbage somewhere else?

Another question for another sign-maker:

My first theory about this sign: a “pre-action” is a thought. But then I realized that thinking is itself an action. That put me in chicken-egg territory, wondering which came first, the pre-action or the thought about the pre-action. What do you think? (And while you’re thinking, are you pre-acting?)

One from a beauty salon:

Is there an analog perm? If I go digital, will I have fingers in my hair, and if so, whose?

Last query:

Is there an epidemic of cave-ins caused by sloppy posture? Or is “Do Not Lean” just mean? I’m leaning (pun intended) toward answering yes to the second question and no to the first, but I’m willing to be convinced otherwise.

Explanations welcome.