Tuesday, 19 October 2010

Public transport talk

Sooner or later, we'll know what it means to love everyone around us. Hopefully sooner.

I'm rather good at handling the strange folks that wander the city- my home. It's not as much fun when there's a beautiful girl on my arm. I would hate anything to happen to someone because I mishandled an interaction with a drunk or a trouble-maker.

People just keep walking. People don't want to get involved. Several teenagers sporting black clothes, skinny jeans and eye-liner hopped across the road in front of a tram stop I was waiting at one night. There were businessfolk and students around me. When the youths proceeded to place some traffic cones on the tram tracks in the middle of the street, no one moved a muscle. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Some of the people around me were probably gym junkies, and had nothing to fear from that slender, effeminate bunch. After they popped into the Krispy Kreme across the road, I waited to see what people would do. After 30 seconds of waiting, I couldn't take it. Perhaps no one cared, but I perceived a rise in tension. I walked to the other end of the platform and jumped off the edge. After I rounded up all the traffic cones, I placed them behind a bin.

The tram that everyone was waiting for would have been obstructed and the driver would have had to stop the tram, get out, and collect them all up. People are strange.

Several nights ago, I pulled a (thankfully pleasant) surprise on My love. We'd just been to church on Sunday evening and she was to return home to her beautiful house after what would be a lonesome, 2 hour train trip, then a short drive from the station- but this was the last train back, and likely to be full of undesirables and the like. I managed to pack a spare shirt in my laptop bag, and convinced her that I wanted to do some work on the tram ride back after dropping her at the station, therefore requiring that I bring my laptop along.

We arrived at the station 45 minutes early. After 15 minutes in the waiting room, I professed my need for a latrine. Stepping out into the cold air, I made my way to the ticket office. I proceeded to purchase my ticket and walk back to the waiting room. On the way I was approached by a young woman who inquired as to my name.

“Evan. What's yours?”
“Nice to meet you. Where are you headed?”
“I don't know.”
“That sounds nice. Sometimes it's a good way to be.”
“You have a paedophile beard- Bye~!”
“Okay... Bye...”

And then she turned into the public toilet and I rejoined My Love in the warmth and strangeness of a train station waiting room close to midnight.

A charismatic chap began to rap in the style of Australian hip hop. He'd found a fellow who could beat-box and they joined forces in a genuinely impressive display of rhyme and skill. Once the hip hop artist had throw down a few of his rhymes, the pair began freestyling and the result was, at times, a high quality show for anyone there who wasn't too old or drunk to appreciate it.

With 10 minutes left until the train would depart, we hopped onto the carriage and the rapper and his crew joined us. The conversation flowed and the announcements over the loud speaker went unheard thanks to the vivacious, musical gang seated in front of us.

We caught the last part of an announcement that ended with “...stand clear of the platform.” My Love looked around in a panic.

“It's moving! What'll you do?!”
“I duunno! Hang on let me check...”
“Where will you get off?!”
“Let me see... On no! What's this... In my wallet? A ticket! Wow! Look at that!”
“YOU! You, oh...”

She battered me across the shoulders as I pointed out her huge grin, then she tried to hide.

I'm glad you enjoyed that surprise, My Love.


The rapper and his crew developed a system to ensure their partying would continue unhindered. Knowing the rules about drinking alcohol on public transport, the group used a safety word, "Kwhiskey", to alert their comrades of a patrolling conductor.

One of them (who had been too drunk to purchase a ticket) asked if he could buy our water bottle, assuming that it would of course be filled with vodka. Upon realising he was without a pass, he proceeded to hide under the seats as the conductor came to check tickets. Despite his inability to keep his legs from sticking out, he managed to avoid having his ticket checked. My guess it that it would have been too much hassle for the conductor to bust him.

All in all, it was an entertaining train ride.


  1. Wow ! PEOPLE ! HUMANS ! Strange species we are indeed. Very good of you to take the initiative to do something about those traffic cones >.< Also, roflmao at your paedophilic beard ! Personally, I think your beard is perfectly, socially acceptable. If that is considered an atypical paedophile's beard then everyone has a paedophilic beard ! I wonder if the thought police will check out this post because the word 'paedophile' and 'paedophilic' has been mentioned so many times X-D

    I enjoy your stories/life :-)

  2. I just love kids :).

    Thanks for the beard comment. I wasn't really worried. I've sported this beard for a while and although it has been called a paedophile beard before, I much prefer it to the math teacher/fireman moustache or if it goes entirely, looking like a 12 year old.

    I'm glad you enjoy 'em, Mookxi :). I have fun writing them. I added the "edit" after My Love reminded me of the crew's shenanigans ;).

  3. What a cute story! (And I love the comment about your paedophile beard :3)

    I think you get bonus points for your sweet surprise on your love!

  4. Evan! I loved this bit. :)

    I drive everywhere and in Florida there really isn't a public transportation system to speak of. I wonder how I'd get along being all shy-like and generally wary of groups of people. :)

    That girl Bree was funny. Giggle.

    Good surprises are always welcomed, I'm sure.

    Many long distance hugs,