Almost as useless to modern society as a sacrifice to a sun, the crossing guard still leaves its mark on society. Each day as I walk to work I run into these elite members of society. They may not be the most talented among us nor are they needed what with the “left, right, left” theory. My bias opinion of crossing guards begins with the fact my grandpa cheated on his wife with one, setting forth motion of continuous failed marriages in my bloodline. Know that we have established full disclosure as to why I may not have a high opinion of crossing guards, let me introduce you to the ones I see every morning.


Stubby is an older woman shaped like a tree trunk. She is round, close to the ground, and probably has squirrels defecate on her. I have never called her Stubby at any time other than this because she is pretty much irrelevant and hard to insult since she actually does her job somewhat well. I also see her smoking a lot while she helps children cross the street which feels wrong.


The Hot Grandmother

I am not saying this woman actually is a grandmother. She may not even be a mother. I never have been close enough to her to even tell anything about her as she has marked her territory across the street from my walking route. She looks to be a bit older and in decent enough shape. My theory is that she got pregnant when she was very young and her daughter did the same thing which is why this woman has to work a shit job after retirement. I think I just like her because she has a ponytail coming out from her hat. Hats are very necessary for crossing guards, just so you know. If they ever do get hit by a car and are completely annihilated the family will have something to bury, the hat.

The Cranky Old Guy

My favorite crossing guard is probably the cranky old guy. Sometimes he yells at people for jaywalking and other times he encourages it. He’s hard to read. Maybe he yells because he cares and maybe he encourages it hoping that someone might get hit. Imagine being a crossing guard and never seeing someone get hit by a bus. That’s like a cop never getting to fire his gun. The cranky old guy also has a cranky old guy voice. He says “Come on!” like he has somewhere to be other than headed toward the grave. Since I actually wrote this a few months ago I have developed a good standing with him where we see “Morning” to each other.


“Go Ahead”

The laziest crossing guard of all is the guy who I have never seen step into the street with his stop sign to actually do his job. Instead he kind of waves his stop sign and says “Go ahead” to us pedestrians. I’m not sure why he thinks this is in his job description. All he has to do is step out into the road. Does he not want the powertrip that gives you, to stop traffic dead in its tracks? He’s probably a nice guy and all, but I would at least like to see my tax dollars that I do not pay go to more use.

The Singing Black Guy

There’s a black guy near the school every morning who seems to sing slave songs. I know he has a lot of resentment toward me as my ancestors’ only struggle in history was not having enough potatoes. Don’t get me wrong, a potato famine sound terrible. What did the Irish eat with their hamburgers back then if there were no chips or fries? What did they do with all of that extra butter? The singing black guy is indeed nice and I am now “boss” to him. Maybe he is actually just trying out for a musical version of The Green Mile. He has yet to ask me to take his hand though.


You’re On Your Own Woman

The final crossing guard I see is at the busiest intersection of all. This lady will help pedestrians cross when the walk sign first changes then stop for the rest of the time, when cars are actually more likely to speed through. She basically is letting us mobile-impaired folks know that we are on our own when it comes to getting to our destination without getting Marcellus Wallace’ed. She behaves like I’m some kind of homeless man and she’s me, paying no attention to my existence. Do your job woman. You get to hold an octagonal sign. You’ve won life’s scratch-off lottery.

  1. rossmurray1 says:

    All the types here except the super-cop. Doesn’t anyone take their not-serious job overseriously anymore?

  2. Lily says:

    Ugh yes. Good topic. I think I’ve met all of these types before. Whenever I think of crossing guards, I think of Albert Brooks in Lost in America (I think) when he’s a crossing guard and a kid calls him a “brillo pad fat head.” The best.

  3. Addie says:

    Crossing guards? Luxury!! We were expected to find our own way across scary roads, dodging drivers who ignored speed limits and had stamps on their windshields showing the number of kids they’d already hit. We did this while we walked to school, uphill both ways, in the constant snow, having to wrap barb wire around our bare feet so we could grip the ice. This last part is why I treasure my pedicures.

    • Mooselicker says:

      We live in a great time period. I don’t think I ever had crossing guards when I was a little kid. My sister would look out the window half awake and say a silent prayer though.

  4. SingingTuna says:

    Haaaa!!!!!! Out of my depth here, never seen one in person before. All I’m familiar with is the people who re-direct traffic during road construction — the flagpeople. They used to be called flagmen until ladies got the power to flag. I wonder who’s higher up on that job food chain. The crossing guards or the flag people? What do you think, Tim?
    And btw, Hi!!!!! I just crawled out from under my rock and came to see you first! How’s everything going? I hope GREAT!! ::waves::

    • Mooselicker says:

      You’ve never seen a crossing guard? Man I feel like I live in a magical place now. We have high pedestrian traffic though. Maybe you live somewhere that mostly cars.

      This aren’t bad. Keeping busy!

  5. SingingTuna says:

    “She is round, close to the ground, and probably has squirrels defecate on her” ::giggles::

    Missed your writing over the winter. 🙂

  6. You funny man. :3
    And what’s jollibee got to do with this?

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