Embrace Debate: Should A Friendly "Lollipop Man" Be Allowed to Give High Fives to Children as They Cross The Street, Further Delaying Cars Who Sit Waiting at The Intersection

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Yorkshire Live – A beloved lollipop man has been told he can no longer give 'high fives' to children as they cross the road.

Neil Cotton, 57, who assists primary and secondary pupils in Howden, near Hull, East Yorkshire, claims he's been instructed to stop the friendly gesture as it "upsets some drivers having to wait another ten seconds". Neil, who operates at a bustling junction known locally as 'Cross Keys Corner', expressed his disappointment, saying: "I do the job for the kids - I love bringing them a little bit of joy and brightening up their day."

He added: "I have support from a lot of locals - their kids all love a high five."

Neil also emphasised the importance of his role, stating: "It is important that a lollipop person is around here as the road can be chaotic with vehicles - it is necessary for their safety."

The decision has sparked outrage among parents, many of whom took to social media to voice their support for Neil, labelling the decision as "over the top" and "absurd". One parent commented: 'I think it's wrong. Why shouldn't he, what's wrong with it?

"It puts a smile on the kids' faces. My son does it all the time. But now he gets upset because he's not allowed to do it."

First things first, we gotta brainstorm a new name for Lollipop Man. When you name an adult man whose profession (or volunteer job?) involves interacting with young children on a daily basis the "Lollipop Man"… I'm just saying… if I hadn't read this article, and my child came home from school ranting and raving about some strange Lollipop Man he interacts with every day on his way to and from school, my initial reaction would be to hunt that man down and run him over with my car. I'm sure Lollipop Man doesn't have the same implication in the UK. And I'm sure in the UK lollipops are called gobblegluckers or some limey bullshit like that. But how about calling him a crossing guard? Crossing guard both accurately describes the job, and does not make me think a strange man is buttering my child up with candy so he can one day lure him into his carnival themed basement. 

Sorry Mr. Lollipop Man. I know you mean well. I'm sure the kids you lollipop on the way to school every day are legitimately better off for knowing you. But that's just awful branding. If there are any Lollipop Men reading this, and you plan on visiting America someday, if someone asks you what you do for work, just say crossing guard. If you say, "I'm a Lollipop Man! I love children!", to the wrong person, you might catch a punch to the throat.

Not a bad PSA for any Americans who plan on moving to the UK either. The Lollipop Man is not a threat. You DO NOT have to fight the Lollipop Man.

But this random article from examinerlive.co.uk poses an interesting dilemma. On one hand, the Lollipop Man brightens kid's days on the way to and from school. On the other hand, if you delay my commute by even 10 seconds, you deserve the death penalty. I can see both sides of the debate. 

If you'll indulge me for a second, imagine a couple different scenarios.

Scenario #1: You're a young British lad on a gloomy Wednesday morning in Howden (near Hull, East Yorkshire). You wake up in bloody mood. You look in the mirror, your haircut is ridiculous. Your teeth are pointing in impossible directions. Your soccer football ball is deflated. As you walk downstairs you can hear your parents fighting in the kitchen. Today is the day of your big field trip to the fish & chips factory, but your parents have been far too busy taking the piss on each other to sign your permission slip. You try to speak up and remind them, but you might as well be invisible this morning. So you choke down your breakfast of mushed peas and soggy faggots and head off to school for another field trip spent back in class soaking Ms. McDuffies' bloomers. But on your way to school, as you step into oncoming traffic in an attempt to end it all, a large figure cuts in front of you. It's the mother fucking Lollipop Man. "You look like you could use a high five" he exclaims as he holds up a long line of cars full of people laying on their horns and yelling inexplicable things at you. He holds out his hand, you hit it with your hand, and suddenly you don't want to kill yourself anymore. At least not today.

Scenario #2: You're driving to work on the wrong side of the road on a shit Wednesday morning in Howden. You feel like shit. You look like shit. Your family is shit. Everything is shit. You're running late for work because your bitch wife broke your finger with her face at breakfast. How many times do you have to tell her if she doesn't Saran Wrap the faggots over night, they're going to be soggy in the morning? Just when you think you're making good time, you come up upon a sea of brake lights. It's the mother fucking Lollipop Man again. Oh and look who he's crossing today? It's your cunt mistake of a son who you never wanted in the first place. "Keep it moving!" you yell as you hurl a handful of shilling at his head, but that oblivious little jerk doesn't even notice. Just like he doesn't notice his atrocious footwork skills on the pitch are the root cause of all your failing marriage. And there's the Lollipop Man, just hi-fiving away like your son has done anything at all to deserve the kindness of a stranger. Just backing up traffic for miles. You're probably going to get fired now and he doesn't even care. What a remarkable piece of shit. Somebody should run him over with their car.

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Again, I can see both sides. If I were the Lollipop Man, I would simply institute a high five system similar to how winning baseball teams high five each other after games. Just hold out your hand, give a quick high five to the kids as they pass by, and keep the line moving. Too bad there's no baseball in the UK.