My husband and I are racing to get to a movie in time, which requires hopping off one subway line and getting to another a couple of blocks away. We reach the station. It’s a small one with just one entrance in sight: an opening mid-sidewalk with a staircase going down.

It’s completely clogged with waiting people, right up to the top of the stairs. These things happen, so we stand on the landing and wait for the logjam to clear. It doesn’t. A few more people arrive and wait behind us on the sidewalk as minutes go by with no movement.

People start murmuring to each other: “Is there a fire?” “Are the police down there?” The people on the stairs don’t join in or say what they see or generally act as if anyone’s behind them; they just stand there and wait.

At some point, I get a clear glimpse to the bottom and see the horrible truth: this is one big group of tourists, all waiting for the one member at the bottom who’s paying their fare at the Metrocard machine by buying one card about twenty-five times. 

People in New York are pretty nice, actually — it’s not a huge tourism spot for nothing — but the one grave sin you can commit as a visitor is to block their way. Stopping where you are on a narrow sidewalk to look at a map for a minute is kind of like doing the same in the road in your car. And blocking an entire subway entrance to use it as a waiting room is unheard of. Almost before I realize it, years of childhood vocal training come out with the power of exasperation, and I bellow:

Me: “COULD YOU PLEASE MOVE? THIS IS A SUBWAY STATION!”

The entire group jumps and then immediately snaps into a line along one edge, which is so surprising it’s almost funny; they were great at making it look like there was no room to spare. But suddenly, the stairs are accessible to all, and we can go in…

…and meet the Metrocard buyer at the bottom, who apparently is just as startled as the rest of her group, and embarrassed to boot. She decides to save face.

Woman: “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

Then, she switched to saying, “Love you, we love you!” to those passing, with the most deliberately phony sickly-sweet tone and smile she could muster. This proved (obviously) that she was the nice one around here. I had never seen someone act this childishly to my face, and I haven’t since. 

I wanted to stick around for another minute and ask her things like why “could you please move” was too harsh for her and whether they had public staircases where she came from. My husband wanted to know why had she decided to take the subway in flip-flops. But after this? We were not missing that movie.

My bus was delayed by five hours at a long-distance terminal in bumf*** nowhere, rural Florida. I, a short, husky teenager, was dressed in a black button-up, a red tie, and black pants with my eyeliner and mascara from “The Rocky Horror Show” which I had attended before traveling, probably looking a bit worse for wear.

I was sitting for a decent while when I noticed that a lady in her late sixties or early seventies was trying to do something on a self-service kiosk and muttering to herself in Spanish. She seemed to be getting frustrated and was darting her eyes around for employees, but the place was packed with people due to the delays at around 3:00 am, so not many employees were around. Someone eventually did stop to try to help her, but I heard “No hablo Ingles,” causing the person to just look kind of puzzled and walk off.

I was in my third semester of Spanish at the time, so I slowly walked over to the lady.

Me: *In Spanish* “Excuse me. Do you need some help?”

She asked if I spoke Spanish, to which I replied that I was still learning but would do my best. She clapped her chest with a literal “Dios mio!” and we pleasantly worked through what she needed done and went our separate ways.

Someone had taken my seat, so I was just standing around for a minute or two when I got “The Tap” on my shoulder. I turned around to see a woman with an inordinate amount of luggage and a child in tow. The kid was nose-deep in a Nintendo DS and wasn’t really paying attention, but the woman looked me up and down with what appeared to be disgust before demanding:

Woman: “Get my luggage to wherever it has to go!”

I had no idea where that is, and I was honestly super exhausted.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t w—”

Woman: *Cutting me off* “Don’t you f*** with me. This place is going crazy, and every other employee is busy, so even an office guy or supervisor or whatever you are should be out here working with customers. I saw you help that other lady, so you can d*** well help me with my bags.”

I raised my hands and started to explain again that I didn’t know anything and didn’t work there, but she was not having it and started to raise her voice a bit. At that point, her child noticed her volume, looked up at me with what seemed like a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, and then tugged on the woman’s shirt.

Child: “Mom, I don’t think he—”

She turned quickly and gave him a “snit” — not even a “shush,” just that loud click/hiss noise that dog whisperer guy used on TV. Then, she started in on me being a “lazy, unprofessional snowflake” or whatever.

Just then, the elderly lady came up from the side of us, shaking her cane at the woman, and shouted in the best English she could muster:

Elderly Lady: “You leave my nephew alone! He’s a good boy!”

The rude woman turned to see this old lady with straight-up lightning in her eyes and the big bit of mahogany inches from her face, and then she just turned around and left with her kid. No apology, nothing.

Once she and her kid were a fair distance away, I thanked the older woman, and she just motioned for me to follow her.

We went outside to a bench by the entrance and she offered me a cigarette as she lit one up.

Me: “No, thank you.”

She then pulled a thermos out of her purse and offered me some coffee.

Me: “No, thank you.”

But she poured it anyway and commented about how the coffee here was so terrible. It turned out that she was visiting from Guatemala to see her son, who works with a company that imports, blends, and roasts Guatemalan coffee. We’re both coffee snobs, so we just sat and chatted about coffee, our families, and why on earth I was dressed like I was until her bus was called to board. Of course, I offered to help her with her luggage, but she said she only had one small bag and was fine with carrying it.

It was definitely an interesting capstone to a very interesting weekend.

I work as a train conductor for [Company] in Finland. My job includes making sure there are no disturbances on the train, as well as keeping an eye on everyone having tickets. I am usually pretty lenient on this if you have a good reason or a funny enough excuse. Hey, sometimes life kicks you in the head and you really, really have to be somewhere.

I am doing ticket rounds on a late-evening train. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two teenagers, maybe fifteen or sixteen, switch seats. That’s okay, and I think no more of that… until a few minutes later when I come to their compartment in order to check their tickets and hear their particular excuse. There are six teenagers in total. Every single one of them is pretending to be asleep. People try this every now and then, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone try it after making eye contact.

I just kind of chuckle and say, “Nice try,” loud enough for the rest of the compartment to hear. The teenagers feign ignorance and say they were trying to catch a bit of sleep. I also notice that they’re carrying alcohol with them. They’re off to a bad start. I ask for the tickets. This is when I hear a myriad of excuses.

[Friend]’s mom has the tickets. Nobody has a working phone on them. When they get the battery charged, [Friend]’s mom doesn’t care and hangs up. They actually went the wrong way first.

You get the point by now.

They finally drop the act and start pleading for a free ride. They even try to bribe me with 10€, to which I reply:

Me: “The next time you try to bribe someone, here’s a little heads-up: don’t do it in front of a dozen witnesses.”

The other passengers are having a blast so far.

In a last-ditch effort, the teenagers bring up the fact that they are, in fact, underage and I am technically in charge of keeping them safe. Here’s the thing: I have to be really careful now because, the law being what it is, I could be held accountable if I drop them off somewhere without supervision and something happens to them.

Here comes the malicious compliance. I finally “relent”.

Me: “I’ll let you go as far as the next station where you can still buy tickets with that bit of cash you have.”

Then, I leave and continue to do my job. Now, as I have to keep them safe, I am naturally worried about underage drinking on their part, as well. That stuff rots the brain and hinders the development of these beautiful young children! So, I arrange for security and police to meet them at the next station.

As they jump off the train, I hear one of the teenagers say:

Teenager: “Man, we really managed to bulls*** that one!”

Naturally, I directed the impressive amount of nothing-better-to-do-right-now security and police officers to the teenagers. I’ve never seen anyone get as pure of an “Oh, s***!” expression as those kids right then.

Their drinks were confiscated and destroyed, and each of them was shipped home to have a meeting with their guardians, the police, and possibly even Child Protective Services if this was a recurring problem. Fines could be slapped, as well.

Moral(s) of the story: Be honest. And under no circumstance tell me to keep you safe, because I will keep you safe.

Some years ago, I was on a local train in a rural area in southern Germany. Halfway between two towns, the train suddenly stopped. We all waited patiently because there are frequent accidents at railway crossings, which means all trains have to wait until it is safe to go on.

After ten minutes there was an announcement.

Conductor: “Ladies and gentlemen, we want to inform you that there are people on the tracks. The police have been called to remove them. We apologize for the delay.”

Okay, no problem. Ten minutes later, there came the next announcement. This time, the conductor sounded rather bemused.

Conductor: “Ladies and gentlemen. I want to correct my previous statement. There are no people on the tracks. Apparently, it is… an emu. The police are trying to catch it, but it is really bloody fast. We apologize for the delay.”

It took them another fifteen minutes to clear the tracks. Apparently, an emu had escaped from a local emu farm and decided the rail tracks were perfect for running up and down.

I’m sixteen years old and very shy. I have an ankle injury. I’m on crutches, waiting for the bus. When the bus arrives, it’s overly crowded and there’s no seat for me to sit. I stand near the driver and try to get a grip on a railing, so I can hopefully keep my balance on one foot.

The driver turns the engine off.

Passenger: “Sir, why have you turned the engine off?”

Driver: “Isn’t that obvious? I can’t drive when there’s someone standing here on one foot.”

Passenger: “But I need to get to the hospital. My wife is there, in labour.”

Driver: “Then I suggest you stand up and let this girl sit down, and I’ll drive.”

Passenger: “But I was here first. I’m not going to stand.”

The hospital is two stops away — about a twenty-minute walk.

Driver: “Girl, come here. You can have my seat.”

I sit down in the driver’s seat. A few passengers are beginning to talk among themselves, but nobody stands up.

Another bus driver passing by notices the bus is turned off and comes to investigate what’s going on. He notices me in the driver’s seat.

Driver #2: “Hello, where’s [Driver]? Oh, there you are. Nobody’s standing up, then?!”

Driver: “Nope.”

Driver #2: “You know what I did last week? I cleared the entire bus; only the person on crutches was allowed to stay. The rest had to either walk or take the next bus.”

Passenger: “You can’t do that. I NEED TO GET TO MY WIFE!”

Driver #2: “Then stand up and he’ll get you there.”

Passenger: “NO! I PAID FOR MY SEAT! I’M NOT GOING TO STAND!”

Both drivers exchange a look.

Driver: “All right, that’s it. Everybody out! NOW!”

Driver #2: *To me* “You just stay here, honey. It’ll be all right.”

Both drivers begin to clear the bus. Passengers who are unwilling to leave are simply thrown out by the two drivers. By now, a crowd has formed around the bus and I feel really anxious. When everybody is thrown out, I’m crying out of anxiety. [Driver] helps me to a seat and [Driver #2] gets back to his bus.

At the next stop, a few people get in, and one very professional-looking woman comments on the empty bus.

Driver: “Yeah, nobody was going to stand for this girl, so we threw everyone out.”

Woman: *Laughing* “Great! Good job.”

She sits next to me and tells me she’s an inspector from the bus company. She’s doing a random check to see if the driver is behaving like he’s supposed to. I begin crying again, fearing he’ll be in trouble for throwing paying passengers out.

Woman: “Oh, honey, don’t cry. He’s done brilliantly. Now, had he been driving while you were standing up, he would have been in trouble. But this will not get him in trouble. I won’t let that happen.”

I had a really nice chat with her and the driver after that.

A couple of days later, I got on the same bus at the same bus stop. Again, there was no seat available and nobody got up. At first.

Then, the driver — a different one from the two the other day — got up and loudly proclaimed, “Do I need to clear this bus?”

It’s unbelievable how many people actually stood up.

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