As you may know, I love Manchester’s bollards. I talk about them enough on here anyway. They provide no end of amusement and an outlet for some of my rage at the people society deems worthy of highlighting as being rather stupid. Or rather the bollards highlight as being rather stupid. I’ve talked about all that here and here.

So it is with some sadness that I read the news of the bollards' latest victims, incidents that it would be entirely inappropriate to extract mirth from. It was not hapless civilians this time who fell foul of the bollards relentless access restraint but emergency services – ambulances – who, if I must say a bad word against my traffic-stopping friends, should really have been allowed through. They have fobs, we’re told, which should activate the bollards to allow access where mere mortals are not welcome (i.e. Cross Street). They also have keys should the fobs fail. In two recent incidences, however, neither fob nor key was effective, necessitating a detour and therefore delay to the ambulance journeys. The patients waiting for said ambulances, I am pleased to report, were not adversely affected by this delay but naturally fingers are being pointed at my inanimate friends, the bollards. They should have worked. But they didn’t.

I’m sad. I like the bollards – I love them in fact, as I said at the beginning of this – but sadly they’ve acted inappropriately and like a mother with an eleven year old who’s thrown a stone at a cat, I’m disappointed in them. Someone might change them, someone might remove them. Then where would we be? I’d have to talk about bloody football all the time then.

In a reluctant move to unmask the offenders I shall provide you with photographic evidence of one of the incidents:
There they are in the background on the right, looking ashamed of themselves. Or, at least, they should be.