The Torture of Sign Waving
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- Category: English: Creative Writing
- Date Submitted: 04/22/2012 11:24 AM
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Andre Long
ENGWR 300
Mon-Wed 1900
February 11, 2008
The Torture of Sign Waving
Ever listen to motivational speeches on the radio? Are you down on your luck with no income? Need something to get your life going again by doing something constructive? Here is a possibility, become a sign waver, that’s right point big colorful arrows at apartment complexes. Earn money on the weekends. Little did I know these types of advertisements were like a lure to hook a fish.
My life as a signing professional began as a way to kill time, until a real job came along that kept food in my mouth. I was not completely overwhelmed with excitement while pondering the possibility, no one says I want to grow up and hold signs on a street conner, after all a job is a means to an end. For this particular occupation, as banally as it seems on the surface, comes with many hidden anxieties, chief among which is boredom.
Whether in the city or countryside plain old boredom plays a major role in the life of a sign bearer. I was on a lonely road once with two lanes, no immediate civilization near me, weaving my sign. I look in front of me, there are no cars in sight, and the same surroundings are all around me. There are no birds chirping, no dogs barking or any other familiar sounds. There are beautiful trees with the smell of pine needles in the air. My function is to twirl my sign to attract public attention, which I do vigorously. With no audience I perform all my tricks by flipping the arrow behind my back, throwing it up ten feet in the air and moving around it as if I were doing the Maypole dance. My sacrifice does not bear fruit, as the salesperson asks me not to return because no units were sold. Now I am off to another jobsite with the same enthusiasm. There are more people in the vicinity and I watch cars go back and forth. Working my corner I stand in the same spot for hours and hours, trying to ignore my aching feet. When I begin work in the morning I stare at...
ENGWR 300
Mon-Wed 1900
February 11, 2008
The Torture of Sign Waving
Ever listen to motivational speeches on the radio? Are you down on your luck with no income? Need something to get your life going again by doing something constructive? Here is a possibility, become a sign waver, that’s right point big colorful arrows at apartment complexes. Earn money on the weekends. Little did I know these types of advertisements were like a lure to hook a fish.
My life as a signing professional began as a way to kill time, until a real job came along that kept food in my mouth. I was not completely overwhelmed with excitement while pondering the possibility, no one says I want to grow up and hold signs on a street conner, after all a job is a means to an end. For this particular occupation, as banally as it seems on the surface, comes with many hidden anxieties, chief among which is boredom.
Whether in the city or countryside plain old boredom plays a major role in the life of a sign bearer. I was on a lonely road once with two lanes, no immediate civilization near me, weaving my sign. I look in front of me, there are no cars in sight, and the same surroundings are all around me. There are no birds chirping, no dogs barking or any other familiar sounds. There are beautiful trees with the smell of pine needles in the air. My function is to twirl my sign to attract public attention, which I do vigorously. With no audience I perform all my tricks by flipping the arrow behind my back, throwing it up ten feet in the air and moving around it as if I were doing the Maypole dance. My sacrifice does not bear fruit, as the salesperson asks me not to return because no units were sold. Now I am off to another jobsite with the same enthusiasm. There are more people in the vicinity and I watch cars go back and forth. Working my corner I stand in the same spot for hours and hours, trying to ignore my aching feet. When I begin work in the morning I stare at...