Dear Stranger Girl with Cool Shoes,
Thank you for buying my $1.90 train ticket this evening. If you hadn't come along I probably would've missed the movie - and it was a very good one (please see post above). You see, I've been having a bit of difficulty with the public transport these days and for some reason I put my weekly ticket in the pocket of my skirt the other day ,and it's stayed there for the past 48 hours causing me no small amount of self-loathing and extra ticket cost.
Your kindness especially meant a lot in light of the crappy treatment I was given on the train on Tuesday. I was having a moment with my mp3 player and my favorite song, drifting off to la-la land when the mean ticket-checking people descended into my car.
I managed to pull out my ticket and concession card and was planning to pick up the song where I left off when stupid ticket girl kept on talking to me, forcing me to remove my earbud and interact with the rest of the world. Please allow me to give you a rough transcription of the conversation that followed:
Ticket Girl: Take your feet off the seat, please.
Me: Oh, ok. Sure. (remove feet from seat facing me)
Ticket Girl: (pointing above her head) There are signs notifying you not to put your feet on the seat.
Me: (nod, fake smile)
Ticket Girl: Since this is an offense, I'm going to have to write a report.
Me: (thinking: whh...what? I've just committed an offense? Do I need a lawyer? Fucking hell. Replace fake smile with look of confusion and incredulity.)
Ticket Girl: Now, in my report I'm going to have to write why you had your feet on the seat. Can you tell me why you had your feet on the seat?
Me: (pregnant pause while I think: WHAT? Why does anyone have their feet on the seat? What is the answer that gets me out of this nonsense?)
Ticket Girl: Did you not know?
Me: No. (thinking: well of fucking course not you jackass! who the hell knows it's a federal offense to put feet on the seat? Please excuse me for not bothering to read the miniature signs above my head - NONE of which notify you that drinking alcohol, using offensive language, or putting your feet on the seat are offenses for which reports will be written about you.)
Ticket Girl: (pulling out her official report notebook and pen) Now, I need to see some ID and proof of address.
Me: (thinking: Well Thank God.) (matter of factly) I don't have anything with my Australian address on it. (sucka! try to give me a fine! I ain't paying shit.)
Ticket Girl: Where are you from?
Me: The States. (once again playing dumb American comes in handy)
Ticket Girl: How long have you been here?
Me: Since August. (fuck. Shouldn't have said that. She will wonder why I don't know. The truth is I really didn't know because who WOULD? Will just say I don't usually ride the train. Is sort of true.)
Ticket Girl: How much longer are you going to be here?
Me: One month.
Ticket Girl: (suspicious) And you didn't know not to put your feet on the seat?
Me: (well, what do you mean by know? I suppose in theory I kind of knew like when your mom says not to put your feet on the furniture, but no, no I did not know you were going to write me up to the principal's office for it). No.
Ticket girl then stands up and leaves as mysteriously as she arrived. And that was the end of that. So you see nice stranger girl, you were a breath of fresh air in my train-riding experience. Thanks for that, and I hope the good karma returns to you soon.
Cheers,
Nik
3 comments:
That is awesome! Can I share?
girl, I've missed you! This is the kind of daily humor I've been missing! thanks for the laugh. And keep your stinking feet off the seat! what were you raised in a barn? actually, wait. . you had one, does that count?
you made that conversation up, right? it is very very difficult to believe. this girl must have been the hall monitor in grade school.
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