I have lived here all my life. In truth, I cannot complain. They treat me rather well. The state gives me funding to fix my potholes. I am regularly paved. My caretakers are kind, simple bureaucrats. But I can’t help but wish that a local private business would emerge one sunny morning and call me its own. At this point, I would even settle for a national franchise.

Waiting to get adopted, you start to wonder if there’s something wrong with you. Lord knows I’m not a perfect highway. Most mornings, I’m backed up southbound all the way to the bridge . I leave a lot to be desired with regard to nighttime visibility. But at the end of the day, I’m a good highway. I get people to where they need to go. Unless it’s to the entry ramp of 86 West. That’s been closed since August.

I know, I KNOW, that I should count my blessings. That there are highways in other countries who are much worse off– Dirt, rubble filled paths under the reigns of despots who care not about automotive infrastructure. But why should I be punishe d? Each of my days ends with another one of my formerly orphaned peers being graciously welcomed into the arms of a loving family business. And I can’t help but hope for the same to happen to me.

Most nights I lay awake and wonder what it would be like to ever truly feel loved.

Last year, the Office Depot of Glendale came around and expressed interest in adopting me. They scoped out my route and deemed my through-traffic to be of reasonable commercial value. Ca n you believe it? My silly old commuter traffic, desired by a moderately recognized retail outlet! They even started putting up little signs notifying drivers that I was sponsored by the Office Depot family. For the first time, I actually felt like I belonged.

Then, it all fell apart. They found out that another patch of the Interstate was up for grabs and pulled out last minute. The state said that thes e kinds of things happen all the time. They said it was jus t how businesses operate. I told them that I’m not looking for a business. I’m looking for a family.

Since then, to be honest, I’ve been quite scared. Scared of getting my hopes up again, and scared of getting hurt. And that, I know, is no way to live. So I do my best to wake up every morning and continue to serve the people. I remind myself what I know to be true in my heart: It is not my asphalt, it is not my asphalt, it is not my asphalt. 



The Higgs Weldon is a humor website with funny stories, articles, cartoons, and one liners. It was started by the Los Angeles stand-up comedy community, but takes submissions from everybody. Please read and enjoy our jokes!