A piece of country road walked into the cafe and declared to all its
occupants: “I’m the hardest bit of asphalt in the whole area!”
The waitress stopped in her tracks and everyone was silent. After a brief
pause, all eyes drop, the waitress starts to clear off a table, and the
piece of country road pulled up a chair and settled down for a bite to eat.
Five minutes later, a piece of city street threw open the door. Once again,
the place goes silent but for the creaking of the slow-moving overhead fans.
The city street declared: “I’m the toughest piece of bitumen you’ll ever see
this side of the border!”
The piece of country road slowly turned and locked eyes with the piece of
city street. The tension mounts; everyone scatters to take cover.
At that precise moment, in walked a piece of Interstate 405 which said: “I’m
the hardest roadway in the whole world and I’ll take you both on!”
And there they stood in a three-way Mexican stand-off for what seemed like
an eternity.
Once again, the door opened and, into the middle of the stand-off, walked a
strange-looking piece of colored bitumen with a blue stripe. The other three
turned their backs to the door, sat down at a table and stared sheepishly
into their plates.
The waitress sidled up to the three of them and asked what the problem is.
“Shhhh!”, says the city street. “Watch what you say; that guy’s a real cycle
path.”
~~
Dr Bob Griffin
[email protected] www.grif.net
“Jesus Knows Me, This I Love!”