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Manholes are like the Bermuda Triangle of the city. You drop something down there, and it's gone forever. It's the underworld's lost and found. I once dropped my keys, and I swear they entered a portal to another dimension. I half expected a wizard to pop out and say, "You shall not pass without proper identification!" And what's with the steam rising from them? It's like the manhole is trying to be all mysterious and dramatic. I half expect a dramatic movie trailer voice to say, "In a world where steam rises from the depths, one man must confront the mysteries of the manhole."
I once saw a horror movie where a monster crawled out of a manhole. I thought, "Well, that explains the weird noises I hear at night." It's not the wind; it's Cthulhu trying to catch a cab!
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Have you ever tried to lift a manhole cover? It's like they're made of adamantium or something. I mean, who designed these things, Houdini? They're impossible to lift! I bet if Houdini were alive today, he'd be doing manhole cover escape acts instead of water tanks. "Watch as I make this 200-pound piece of iron disappear into thin air!" I've always wondered why they make manhole covers so heavy. Are they trying to keep something in, or are they worried people will steal them? I can't imagine a black market for manhole covers, but who knows? Maybe there's an underground society of manhole cover enthusiasts. "I got a rare one from the streets of Paris, only slightly used!"
And have you noticed they always have those mysterious markings on them? I'm convinced it's an ancient code that only pigeons can decipher. They probably read, "This way to the secret bird spa." It's the avian equivalent of a VIP pass.
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You know you're a true city dweller when you've mastered the art of manhole yoga. Dodging them on the sidewalk should be an Olympic sport. I've seen people do the most incredible acrobatics just to avoid stepping on one. It's like a dance of survival, the manhole mambo. And if you accidentally step on one, it's like a rite of passage. You become a part of the manhole brotherhood, a secret society of people who've had that heart-stopping moment of, "Did I just break my ankle?" It's the urban version of stepping on a Lego, only with more embarrassment and less colorful language.
I bet there's a yoga class somewhere that incorporates manholes into the routine. "And now, assume the manhole pose, where you gracefully sidestep the mysteries of the underground. Namaste, and watch your step!
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You ever notice how the term "manhole" sounds like something straight out of a superhero comic? I mean, they call it a "manhole," but I've never seen Batman or Superman emerge from one, have you? If I saw Batman climbing out of a manhole, I'd think Gotham City's sanitation system is seriously messed up. But seriously, manholes are a strange thing. It's like the earth is playing peek-a-boo with us. "Oh, you thought you knew what's beneath your feet? Surprise, here's a manhole!" And they're everywhere! You walk down the street, and it's like playing hopscotch to avoid falling into one. It's the urban version of Minesweeper, only with fewer explosions and more unpleasant smells.
I once saw a guy texting while walking, completely oblivious to his surroundings. He stepped on a manhole, and I kid you not, he disappeared like he'd been abducted by aliens. I like to think he's now in some secret underground society, sending us messages like, "The mole people are friendly; bring snacks.
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