Short story: Turn lemons into lemonade
This fall I went on a long road trip. One thing I noticed (and thought was funny) was the great lengths some people take to prevent people from accidentally going down their private drive. This short story was inspired by these attempts. Enjoy. :)
Bob wasn’t happy. His house was set back from the road and nestled in a covering of trees that grew thickly. The private road leading to his house was a dirt road, but it just so happened to be at a curve of a paved main road. If the driver didn’t pay attention, they would miss the curve and go down his driveway.
As a result, tourists of all sorts would find themselves and their RV or trailer on Bob’s narrow drive unable to turn around without much difficulty.
Bob wasn’t a grumpy old man, but he did like his privacy. He certainly didn’t like the idea of his place becoming a full-time travel reroute stop.
As the tourist season dragged on, Bob began to grow weary. Sure, he was able to talk to new people every day, but redirecting people was tough. Sometimes there would be ten or more vehicles in a line down his driveway even late at night. Neither Bob nor his calico cat liked the “night shift.” Sometimes people honked angrily, not realizing the mistake was their own.
One thing was sure. He’d have to find a way to prevent people from coming down his drive. His driveway wasn’t a highway after all.
So, late one night after helping five honking vehicles to reroute, he sat at his dinner table to brainstorm.
The next morning, he set up two red signs on either side of the end of his driveway. Painted on them was written, “Private drive.” Later he peeked out the window of his house and was startled by the long stream of vehicles slowly making their way down his driveway. Evidently, he learned, his signs had attracted tourists who thought it was a scenic drive!
Next, he put up a large metal sign that said “Danger: keep out.” Suddenly the traffic switched to construction and heavy equipment, which was even more difficult to turn around in his narrow drive. It had happened that there was a construction project nearby and the turn was easier to miss than the curve, resulting in the crew mistaking his drive for the worksite.
The traffic down his private driveway continued, much to Bob’s dismay. At night his signs weren’t visible enough, and they kept falling over into the ditch anyway.
The next day, Bob woke up early. No messing up this time. He’d make sure every person knew just what to do when they came to that curve in the road.
He purchased the largest neon pink sign he could afford and hung it from the largest oak tree at the end of his driveway. The neon arrow pointed towards the left around the curve and could hardly be missed even at night. His problem would certainly be solved now.
With a satisfied hum, he walked back to his house. He went to sleep. He could finally get a good night of rest.
Or could he?
He looked out the window and gasped. The neon sign hung from the tree by ropes had twisted and was now pointing into his drive. He threw on his coat to take the “night shift” once again. It was sunrise before he’d redirected the pileup of vehicles that had entered his driveway.
He slumped into bed face-first, exhausted and defeated. Was this going to become his retirement duty for the rest of his life?
Then it occurred to him. So many businesses and people would pay a lot to have this much traffic come their way. So, at that moment, he decided to embrace the traffic rather than fight it.
Bob hired a crew to bulldoze some trees over and put in a dirt road that curved from his driveway back to the main road. This way, his driveway was simply a detour with no turn-around necessary, and Bob’s house was simply a landmark on the way.
When the county heard about Bob’s detour, he put forward an idea that was received with applause. The county paved the road and what was once an irritation turned into an opportunity for Bob to touch people’s lives.
For the rest of his life, Bob could be seen in the little tourist information building that was constructed beside his house talking and having lemonade with tourists passing by his drive.
The road still remains today even though Bob is now only a fond memory of all those whose lives he touched.
And guess what, the road is called “Bob’s Driveway.”
THE END