That’s Not Fare

, , , , , | | Right | June 27, 2019

(I am sitting on a train waiting for it to leave the station at the beginning of the line when a group of teenage girls arrives to board the train, as well. One of the girls has some type of trouble paying her fare, so another girl blocks the door to the car I am seated in, standing with one foot on the platform and the other on the train.)

Girl: “This train ain’t leaving! Nope! Y’all ain’t going nowhere! No! Where! Everybody’s gonna have to wait now!”

(She goes on like this for a while. None of the passengers react in any way.)

Conductor: *over the loudspeaker* “Ma’am, this train isn’t scheduled to leave this station for another five minutes.”

Girl: “Oh.”

(She went to a seat and sat down with her head down while the rest of the passengers had a little chuckle. Her friend made it onto the train with plenty of time to spare.)

Put An End To That Train Of Thought

, , , , , | | Friendly | June 17, 2019

(I am a teenager travelling with my parents and my little brother for a summer trip to Amsterdam. My mother is Japanese, and I am half Japanese, but since I have several ethnicities I look nothing like my parents. My features are described to be difficult to pinpoint, and I have been mistaken for many different ethnicities all throughout my life. I have most often been mistaken as Indian. At this point, I am wandering the aisles of our express train and looking for our seats. I finally find them and see we are seated next to another family. I don’t pay much attention to them, but I suddenly overhear their conversation.)

Other Father: *in Japanese* “Ugh, I see an Indian family will be sitting next to us on this train.”

Other Mother: *in Japanese* “They are probably going to be so loud. What a shame.”

Me: *loudly, and in Japanese* “Mom! Mom! Looks like our seats are here.”

(The other family was absolutely shocked. I proceeded to talk to my parents, who both understand Japanese, very loudly about various topics. The family next to us looked visibly embarrassed and did not utter a word for the entire rest of the three-hour train ride.)

Training Her Mind With Sudokus

, , , | | Related | June 15, 2019

(I am making a day trip with my teenage niece. To keep her busy on the train, I bought a book with sudokus for beginners. Keep in mind that she doesn’t believe in herself and thinks she is bad at maths.)

Me: “Here you go.”

Niece: “Sudoku? Isn’t that difficult?”

Me: “Not really. And these are super easy.”

(I explain how sudokus work and she starts. She completes the grid in no time and with ease as if she is writing a letter. She completes a second and third one in under a minute, sighs, turns the book to the last sudoku and completes that one in record time, as well.)

Niece: “Auntie, this is too easy.”

Me: “So I see. You know what? I’ll buy you a new one for the ride home.”

(True to my word, I bought one that was one level under “expert,” and she happily worked herself through them. Those took a bit more time to be solved. I finished the super easy ones.)

Won’t Stand For It

, , , , | Right | January 28, 2019

(I’m a passenger in a very overcrowded train going from Leipzig to Berlin. The train left the station ten minutes late and even more people get in. Two passengers check their reservations and ask a couple to vacate their seats.)

Standing Passengers: “Give us these seats. We reserved them.”

Sitting Passengers: “Strange, we also reserved these seats. Maybe you are in the wrong car?”

Standing Passengers: “No, these are our seats.”

Sitting Passengers: “We are sorry, but these are not your seats. Here, see? These are the reservations for these seats.”

(This keeps going for another minute, the standing passengers are getting louder, so that the whole car can listen to their shouting. Meanwhile, the train starts moving and the conductor appears.)

Conductor: “Good afternoon. What seems to be the problem here?”

Standing Passengers: “These people are sitting in our seats and won’t give them to us.”

(The sitting passengers are trying to get a word in but are interrupted by the standing passengers. They quietly hand their tickets and reservations to the conductor.)

Conductor: *to the standing passengers* “I’m sorry, but these passengers reserved these seats. Can I please see your tickets?”

Standing Passengers: *hand over their tickets, while complaining about the train service in general* “This is unacceptable. We reserved these seats. We want to be compensated!”

Conductor: “I’m sorry, I found the problem. You booked seats on the train that is leaving for Berlin in five minutes.”

Standing Passengers: “But this train goes to Berlin.”

Conductor: “Yes, this train also goes to Berlin but it was delayed and so the departure times of both trains were nearly identically.”

Standing Passengers: “But we booked seats. It’s unacceptable for us to stand.”

Conductor: “Well, it’s the book fair in Leipzig today and therefore the train is full. There are a lot of people standing.”

Standing Passengers: “This is unacceptable and bad service.”

Conductor: “Well, you are in the wrong train. I cannot do anything about that.”

Standing Passengers: “How rude! Give us your name, so we can complain to Deutsche Bahn.”

Conductor: “Gladly, my name is [Conductor].”

(Lots of people started sniggering and the standing passengers ran off to the next car. I really would have liked to listen in on their telephone call with the complaint department.)

That Was A Weird Trip(oli)

, , , | Friendly | January 16, 2019

(I’m on my way home from school on a train. I sometimes wear camo pants but I’m pretty sure this day I didn’t. If I did, the story might have made at least some sense. A man comes to sit next to me, but in a very stiff manner. He kinda moves like a robot would. A minute after he sits down he leans towards me and out of the blue asks me this incredibly random question.)

Man: “Do you happen to know any intel about the current situation in Lebanon?”

Me: “Ehm. No. Can’t help you there. Sorry.”

(The man looks at me for a bit, then stands up in the same robotic manner he sat down with and gets off at the next stop.)

Me: “What the h*** just happened?”

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