So, the guy that holds the flag at a construction site. I can’t help but wonder: coveted position
or source of shame? It’s really hard for
me to say (but sadly impossible for me to let go in my obsessive way of focusing on things that really don't matter *at all*).
On the one hand, it seems like a pretty cushy job. You hang out at the edge of the site, flag by
your side until you receive the signal (maybe you think you’re like batman) at
which point you stand up straight (shoulders back! It’s go time!) thrust your flag in front of
the oncoming pedestrian traffic while also holding up your hand in case we didn’t
get the hint (STOP!). And there you keep
us, until you get the all clear sign.
Down goes the flag and you wave us on, free to walk on our way without
worrying about a giant dumpster full of wood and concrete falling on our little
heads. It’s really very protective of
you which must feel good. Saving all of
those citizens from certain doom. Maybe he asked for the position; maybe there's even a waiting list or bribes involved.
 |
Stop! You don't have a hat like me to protect you
from that thing the size of a car falling 100 feet! |
On the other hand, the average guy can’t even walk by a
construction site without stopping to peer in at what’s being done, lured by
the siren song of men using tools (I’ve
blogged about this before – I've been
walking by the same huge construction site for like a year now). What’s to say flag guy doesn’t feel the
same way -and he’s a little embarrassed at being so close to the action yet having
this kind of job. Moving a danger flag
for pedestrians up and down, up and down, while less than 100 feet away his buddy is putting on his safety glasses and helmet and grabbing a jackhammer.
 |
Dan didn't invite us on his boat this weekend;
flag duty all week for him |
I don’t know how his fellow workers feel about him, but I don’t
think he is well liked by the pedestrians he has stopped. I have sometimes waited there for as
long as two minutes (that’s the equivalent of two hours in rushed city commuter time). Personally, I wait there patiently, as a one
ton object dangling at the end of a chain (under which I care not to be) passes
over the covered walkway that smells like pee (
guys, guys -also another blog topic). I'm lost in deep
thought about the flag guy’s job (which I will later share with you, my valued
readers, all six of you). My fellow walkers, who clearly don't have such an inner hobby, seem a
little more anxious to get going and would clearly brave possible death if not
for this annoying fellow who, like Gandalf, will not let them pass. You even get some that try to make a power move through, not breaking stride like they can pretend they don't notice him standing there with his flag or the other 10 people waiting. It's one of the few times people are willing to be blind and dumb. "Oh, I have to stop? Geez didn't see you - any of you - at all. Ok, guess I'll just wait. Here at the front where I'll be first through when the flag goes up." I don’t know if they are late to perform
surgery or what, once that flag goes up they take off, and there are
definitely some dirty looks and mumbling. Directing all of this negative energy at our little
flag-wielding friend, who has either brought it upon his own lazy self or is being publicly shamed in this sad task right outside the shrine to manliness, the construction site.
Actually, now that I think about it, I'm going to go with pathetic job. Because over the course of 25 years walking in the city, I've seen a woman or two doing it. If they're willing to give it to a chick on a construction job, it can't possibly be a coveted position. So next time I see you flag guy, I'll be pondering what you did to get a construction job they would give a girl.
