A groundbreaking new study from Tulane University’s Department of Civic Trauma has confirmed what many New Orleanians have known for years: nearly every resident holds a personal grudge against at least one specific pothole.
The findings, released this week, detail decades-long rivalries, emotional wounds, and in some cases, highly detailed revenge fantasies against the city’s most notorious road craters.
“It’s not just about inconvenience,” said Dr. Calvin Dubois, an infrastructure psychologist leading the study. “These potholes aren’t just holes in the road. They’re holes in the soul…reminders of broken suspensions, spilled coffee, and crushed dreams of ever getting anywhere on time.”
Potholes with Names, Faces, and Enemies
The study reveals that 75% of locals have assigned their pothole a name, with particularly infamous ones being referred to in hushed tones, much like an old mob boss or a vengeful spirit.
- “Lucifer’s Drain” – A crater on Tchoupitoulas that caused a three-day traffic jam, claimed two car doors, an entire muffler, and a wedding cake en route to a reception.
- “The Crater of No Return” – An ever-expanding “stealthy” pit on Paris Ave that locals swear has doubled in size since last week.
- “Big Gulp” – A monster-sized hole in Lakeview believed to be an entry point to the lost civilization, though recent expeditions have only recovered a stray shopping cart and a Popeyes bag with a receipt dated 1997.
- “Hungry Maw” – A bottomless pit on Elysian Fields that has swallowed a parade float, three Lyft drivers who took a wrong turn, and a man still clutching his to-go cup from Saturn Bar.
- “The Pit of Despair” – A sinister hole on Chef Menteur Highway so deep that scientists use it for core samples. It’s already consumed three sedans, a UPS truck, and a man who just wanted to make a quick U-turn but is now considered “missing, presumed absorbed.”
Generational Grudges
The study also found that 1 in 5 New Orleanians has inherited their pothole feud from an elder relative, proving that animosity toward infrastructure is often passed down like a family heirloom.
“My grandfather fought this pothole. My daddy fought this pothole. And now I fight it,” said Mid-City resident Harold Boudreaux, gesturing toward an asphalt crater on Carrollton that he says “hasn’t been the same” since the Reagan administration.
“The city filled it back in 2015, but that was a trap. Three months later? Worse than before.”
Attempts at Revenge
The study also uncovered various “counterattacks” that residents have attempted against their sworn pothole enemies:
- 40% of respondents admitted to throwing objects into the pothole out of spite, including bricks, Christmas trees, and in one case, an ex’s clothing.
- 22% confessed to purposefully driving directly into the hole out of sheer rage, knowing full well it would ruin their alignment.
- 8% claim to have attempted to fill the pothole themselves, often with household items like Quikrete, Mardi Gras beads, or their own shattered dignity.
The One Exception: A Love Story?
Despite the overwhelming frustration, one Lakeview woman was the only person in the study who did not have a personal vendetta against a pothole—instead, she admitted to being in what she described as a “complicated relationship” with one.
“It’s been here for me longer than any of my exes,” she said. “Sure, it’s unpredictable. Sure, it’s caused me pain. But at the end of the day, it’s mine.”
She further admitted that she once placed a traffic cone next to the pothole “just to keep it warm at night.”
City’s Response
In response to the study, a spokesperson for the Department of Public Works released a statement assuring the public that the city takes potholes very seriously.
“We are committed to addressing potholes promptly, within our standard three-to-five-year timeline,” the statement read. “Additionally, any pothole that has been filled more than three times will now be classified as an ‘Urban Historical Landmark’, making it eligible for guided tours and preservation grants.”
However, not all city officials agree. One anonymous Department of Public Works employee challenged the study’s findings, insisting that potholes aren’t even real.
“A pothole isn’t real unless you acknowledge it,” the official said before disappearing into a spontaneously re-emerging sinkhole on Canal.
Pothole Awareness Month
To raise awareness, the city has proposed officially designating March as “Pothole Awareness Month.” The initiative will include community-led walking tours, pothole-naming contests, a new pothole repair/burial plot program, and a ceremonial wreath-laying at the deepest hole in Orleans Parish.
For residents still seeking closure, Tulane’s study recommends “forgiveness,” though they acknowledge this is unrealistic. Instead, they suggest expressing grievances in constructive ways, such as writing poetry about the betrayal or submitting the pothole for federal disaster relief funding.
One thing is clear: in New Orleans, the roads aren’t just bad…they’re personal.
