Every morning I walk about three blocks up and two over to the bus stop. As in I’m basically an adult size kindergartner waiting on line for the bus. Day after day I can’t help but become more annoyed by the overly cheerful crossing guard that makes a point to always join me for the walk across the street. She chats. Sometimes she sings. Meanwhile, I frown from lack of caffeine and can’t help but contemplate the life of a crossing guard.
If you really like children and have a passion for street crossing safety, obviously this is your dream job. My crossing guard (yes she is mine. She has successfully gotten me across the street in one piece I would say 300 some odd times) is, I’m guessing, 70ish years old and on the rim of being either a nice grandma or one of those “too close talkers who has nothing worthwhile to say” that you change routes in order to avoid.
My crossing guard knows all the children’s names, unless perhaps she just makes them up and no one corrects her because they feel bad. She is there, day after day, despite poor weather conditions and always a smile on her face. She also knows the parents and happily catches up with them as they shove along their children to school. Is it in a parent’s job description to befriend the crossing guard? Or maybe it’s something that comes with having children? I’d only be nice so they would take special extra care of my bundle of joy..
The only reason I’d be a crossing guard is to be outside all day. But I sure as hell wouldn’t work on the East Coast. Oh no no no… it’s like being a mail man on the East Coast. I’d take these professions to San Diego where weather is ideal and life is laid back. HELL no could you get me to walk children across the street in the depth of February. No way.
The only other reasonable explanation to be a crossing guard is your pretty old, still need a job, and figure you can’t mess this one up. What’s easier than holding up a sign and walking back and forth all day? Also, it must be nice for them (say if they live alone) to have a chance to socialize a bit during an either isolated existence.
But what does the crossing guard do in the summer when school is out? Maybe distribute Chinese restaurant menus to our mailboxes and cars? Or…who knows, maybe my crossing guard is richie rich and just does this job as a way to get out of the house a couple days a week. After the morning rush, maybe she goes home to a nice bowl of oatmeal and coffee, where she shares her morning with her husband and says, “I don’t get how all those young people go back and forth to the city ALL day. Bleh who would want to do that when you can just go back and forth across the street?”
Maybe she’s on to something here after all…