EVERY BENCH HAS A STORY

See the amazing collection of bench photos on Pinterest.


IT'S TRUE -- EVERY BENCH HAS A STORY


​Here's what the bench in the lobby of my

apartment building is currently saying:

Can you believe this?????

I think the doggy feet were put there by an anonymous tenant. Great going, whoever you are!​

Everywhere are warnings, on the entrance window, on the bulletin board, on every floor at the elevator doors.  No, not warnings -- COMMANDS -- complete with exclamation marks:


STAY HOME AND DO NOT VISIT!

HOME IS YOUR UNIT!

DO NOT GATHER IN THE HALLWAY, STAIRWELL OR LOBBY!

WASH YOUR HANDS

COVER YOUR COUGH

DON'T TOUCH YOUR FACE

KEEP 2 METRES (6 FEET AWAY) Thanks for the translation, eh?

Hitler would have loved the "Managing CEO" of the firm that owns this building.

Death would make a "gentler friend". (See poem at the bottom of this page written by a commenter at Off-Guardian.)

NO GATHERINGS ALLOWED

TENANTS ARE REQUIRED TO FOLLOW ALL RESTRICTIONS.

It's comforting that our government loves and respects us old gaffers so-o-o much that it has given carte blanche for us to be ordered around like children (no, not even as nicely) whenever it's deemed appropriate (as if such rudeness could ever be "appropriate").

No "please", no "thank-you" required when you show your love for the raisins.

I find it hard to believe that I'm charged money every month for this!

Jail is free, isn't it?

Below you'll see the outside benches. The ghoul who did that must have really enjoyed himself. A bit overzealous, don't you think?

Simple signs tacked onto the benches would have sufficed.

We may be old, but we can still read.

Can you tell I'm disgusted?  I'm going to have to try to stay that way to maintain my own sense of pride and dignity.  I almost hope I get arrested for being a found-out on the streets while wearing white hair.

Last time I went out there was a group of our local choice youth, no doubt brainy university students, all walking together down the sidewalk, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over one another's designer mutts on strings (some off them as well) and getting licked on hands and faces by critters that had just sniffed around in excrement.

So rapt were they in their own beauty they couldn't see me coming, and I had to go out into the road to get past them.  Not one of them apologized, though I could see a couple of them glance at me out of the corners of their eyes.

What were they thinking?  Serves you right for being old and outside?

What are we raising nowadays?  How do they treat their mothers?

The only credit I guess I can give this lot is that they were not following the order to distance themselves (nor were their dogs, the greatest carriers of germs on earth). That might serve them well in the future if this kind of crackdown continues or repeats itself.

Meanwhile, I, for one, can't wait for my chance to bang on the bars of the city jail and yell: "Dirty screws!!!!!!!!

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