I admit it. I giggle a little bit every time I drive past this sign. Which, since the street it’s on is smack dab in the middle of town, I often do.
And, yes, of course it just refers to the fact that they stuck one of those lovely bumps in the road to slow us crazy drivers down. But I’ve never seen it called a hump before. I mean, really – speed hump? SPEED HUMP? How can you NOT go there?
I thought perhaps it was just my romance-writing mind that, um, leapt into the gutter with this, but nope. It’s not just me. Recently, while heading out to lunch with my husband, we passed by it. He snickered first. I chortled. We eyed each other. I’m pretty sure one of us said something along the lines of, “Now that’s a quickie!”
Great minds think alike. Or maybe just married ones do?
I wonder if any of the other good citizens of this town get the sillies when they see this sign. Perhaps it’s just the hubby and me who have dirty minds. Whatever. It still cracks me up.
Happy Hump Day. May it be as speedy or slow as you want it to be.
(I’m web-free on Wednesdays for Lent and am writing this up Tuesday night. So you can bet that my internet-addicted self will be rooting for Thursday to roll around quickly. Or, as my good friend Kary quipped last week after I commented I was wasting all my time online on Thursday – it’s “Throw Yourself Back On to the Internet Thursday!”. Indeed.)