(no subject)
"where are you two going?" there's a solitious smile on the mans face, predatory as hell I think, "well I don't know where he's going, actually." "I'm going home" he cuts in, I stifle a laugh at the irritation creeping through the reptilian grin, "where, is home?" "you know, I don't feel like telling you that".
Through the rain our train slides to *sccccreach* stop to our left, I turn and walk to the train with a overly enthusiastic "See ya!" to the ticket inspectors.
My friend boards behind me, finding a seat half way down the train and I relax into the chair by the door, allowing my nose to reacquint itself with the acrid scent of wet-train (sort of like wet dog, only with a metallic edge). Then they bustle through the door, and a flurry of metcards drawn from wallets ensues. I pause a moment, and then withdraw my card, sure enough they check on me first, grudgingly flicking fingertips at me in what I assume means "you may now put your ticket away". They reach my friend, I watch carefully, wondering if I'll have to go play witness for the second time today.
"You. So, where's that ticket" He draws it out with a flourish. The inspector examines it, turning it over in his hands, as though looking for signs that it's a fake, the other's gather around him, waiting. This is only Zone 2. "We're in zone 2." "What station are you going to?" "Another one in zone 2" I want to laugh, but at the same time I'm getting concerned, why doesn't he just tell them so they'll leave him alone, principle is well and good, but why oppose them just for the sake of it?
The train pulls to a stop, my friend stands up "'scuse me" "where do you think you're going?" "home" he looks at them as though they are dullards, enunciating the word carefully. He walks between them, off the train. The inspectors look at each other as the doors begin to beep, "shall we?" At the last minute they follow him off the train, I jump up and watch out the window as the platform receeds and see them following him.
Through the rain our train slides to *sccccreach* stop to our left, I turn and walk to the train with a overly enthusiastic "See ya!" to the ticket inspectors.
My friend boards behind me, finding a seat half way down the train and I relax into the chair by the door, allowing my nose to reacquint itself with the acrid scent of wet-train (sort of like wet dog, only with a metallic edge). Then they bustle through the door, and a flurry of metcards drawn from wallets ensues. I pause a moment, and then withdraw my card, sure enough they check on me first, grudgingly flicking fingertips at me in what I assume means "you may now put your ticket away". They reach my friend, I watch carefully, wondering if I'll have to go play witness for the second time today.
"You. So, where's that ticket" He draws it out with a flourish. The inspector examines it, turning it over in his hands, as though looking for signs that it's a fake, the other's gather around him, waiting. This is only Zone 2. "We're in zone 2." "What station are you going to?" "Another one in zone 2" I want to laugh, but at the same time I'm getting concerned, why doesn't he just tell them so they'll leave him alone, principle is well and good, but why oppose them just for the sake of it?
The train pulls to a stop, my friend stands up "'scuse me" "where do you think you're going?" "home" he looks at them as though they are dullards, enunciating the word carefully. He walks between them, off the train. The inspectors look at each other as the doors begin to beep, "shall we?" At the last minute they follow him off the train, I jump up and watch out the window as the platform receeds and see them following him.