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Traffic wardens are strange people

A weekly column reproduced from the Bristol Evening Post


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It appears that traffic wardens could soon become part of an auxiliary police force with the power to arrest offending motorists and pedestrians. The plan is apparently intended to free proper police officers to concentrate on more serious criminal behaviour (and, no doubt, to change the film in speed cameras more regularly.)

This could be problematic, to say the least. Traffic wardens are strange people. They tend to be failed policemen who find uniforms and sensible shoes strangely erotic. They eat fig rolls and have a leather binder for their copy of the Radio Times. A lot of them also pretend that they’re SAS troopers doing undercover work.

Traffic wardens are the only people under the age of 65 who still use antimacassars on the backs of their chairs. They are regular cardigan-wearers and also have a predilection for crocheted toilet roll covers, especially musical ones. Anything by Russ Conway, I’m told, is looked on favourably.

They also have curious diets, existing mainly on a combination of Spam, piccalilli and Mr Kipling cakes. The withdrawal of Spangles left a serious gap in their lives, as did the demise of the Terry and June Show. Many have not fully recovered from Frank Bough’s sex and cocaine binge.

Finally, it might just be me, but I do think that there is a disproportionate number of gingers amongst their ranks. And that clashes with the yellow and black, horribly.

So you see, giving powers of arrest to people like these might not be the brightest thing to do. You may as well ask Mrs Killshaw to run a charm school.

(Incidentally, it’s very easy to sit behind the anonymity of this column and hurl indiscriminate abuse at public servants without the expectation of any retaliation, so I’ll come clean. I am currently driving a dark blue, X reg, Range Rover.)


Gather round. You’ll love this. Arch-feminist Doris Lessing has called off her life-long war on men. This has not gone down to well with militant wimmin. Take this letter from The Guardian, for example.

There’s more…