Signs

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I am fascinated by the profusion of “caution: wet floor” signs that litter the grounds of the hotel. One can hardly take two steps without falling over one of them. Now that’s what I call a safety hazard.

One of my law teachers at university once patiently explained to the class that supermarkets, hotels and the like often put these signs up just in case. If anything happens, anything at all, banana peel, bird shit, alien invasion, the institution in question can always blame the customer.

“What? You saw a Martian war cruiser and slipped? Didn’t you see the sign? It’s really not our fault if your continent has been incinerated, you didn’t pay attention to the sign.”

Charming. But I can’t help but think that it is a bit silly to keep them in the hotel hallways at any time of day. They can only pretend to clean the floors so often, after all. I’m still waiting for the night when I leave our room to go to the imaginary ice dispenser at the end of the hall at three in the morning and see an underpaid maid scrubbing away at an already immaculate tile off in the far hazy distance…

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