Do you have to be mentally unhinged to be a crossing guard or does the job makes you that way? Is it a fulfilling occupation which keeps you in touch with the community or a dreadful slog, standing in the pissing rain making sure the brats who abuse you are safe?
Would you ever consider being one? In God's name, WHY?
― Ally C, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Menelaus Darcy, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Jonnie, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Geoff, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Madchen, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Will, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Ned Raggett, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Sean, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Benjamin, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― Maria, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― duane, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― , Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
Round here the lollipop woman always lets the kids cross about two car lengths away from the busiest roundabout in town, stopping the traffic with absolutely no concern as to whether there's anything right behind it which will hit it or block the roundabout. It's not a very busy town, but there's enough traffic there at twenty to nine in the morning that it seems asking for trouble.
Erm. That paragraph was considerably less interesting than it seemed in my head. No, I wouldn't want to be one, I have no road sense, I hate kids, and standing in the road wearing fluorescent yellow and waving your hands around in front of loads of kids has to be a pretty fast way to acquire some insulting nicknames.
― Rebecca, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)
― hamish, Friday, 9 November 2001 01:00 (twenty-four years ago)