I spend a lot of time on London Transport. Whether it be simply hopping on a rickety double decker bus to pop up the road and back, navigate the often disrupted (but always improving) tube network, or catching an overground train into town when I have the misfortune to be found so far away I need to. I spend a lot of time topping up my oyster card to enable my transport freedom and I spend a lot of time trying to be terribly nice to otherwise hostile and angry commuters. I spend a lot of time simply 'being' alongside London's wonderful transport system. I can handle the closures. I can handle the commuters. I can handle the rising prices (only just though). I even like the upholstery on the Northern Line (different sized blue squares!). I'm fairly easy going with everything apart from the (sometimes, not always) smug, self centred, arrogant, passive-aggressive attitude from the Transport for London employees.
Before you all write in praising the efforts of those that keep our infrastructure structured and saying how misguided and evil I am, let me clarify; I have total and uncompromising respect for the workers who maintain our busses, tubes, trains, trams and clippers, I just sometimes doubt their respect for us. When you are confronted with an individual (as I did today) who absolutely relishes the power and hold they have over you, a single commuter with places to be, when you make a simple mistake, it makes you think (and write in this case).
It isn't unfair to expect that, with the recent changes throughout the London Transport Network, understanding the fares and limitations of them will be a common occurrence for a little while longer. I for example haven't travelled every single route on every single mode of transport to, from, in and out of London so sometimes a slip up can't be avoided, especially if you're in a rush. My mistake was to touch in at a station on the overground network (as they have Oyster card readers now don't ya know) and expect that no more than two stations further I'd be able to touch out. No such luck. I arrived at the gate realising that a blank space occupied the usual bright, happy and damn right annoying Oyster logo on the barriers. A moment passed when a little of my life flashed past my eyes which was then interrupted by a friendly sounding voice from the other side. A small man smiling and gesturing to the other gates. How nice, thought I, and went to complete my journey. This is when it all went wrong.
Little Man, as I have come to call him, didn't look at me directly and simply had a disappointed smirk on his face as though I'd just got my comeuppance in a really awful thriller. I explained that I didn't know this was out of the Oyster zones and apologies as calmly as I could. Then came the long slow explanation of 'how it all works now', which I nodded at and smiled along to until the line 'So you'll have to pay a penalty fare'. This line always gets my heckles up, understandably as it's a whopping twenty pounds, which is a lot when you don't have it. I was in a hurry and agreed very quickly just to get away from Little Man. Little Man seemed to want more than just a simple acceptance of the rules. He wanted blood. He wanted pleading and crying and begging to be let off. I didn't have the energy and simply repeated 'OK, do you take cards?'. Yet more explanation of 'how it all works now' and that I 'should have known'. Of course I should have. Please tell me more about how stupid I am. Really, it'll be best for everyone.
Suddenly, in a moment of forgiveness Little Man asked what I was doing there. It's his business you see. So I told him through gritted teeth I was seeing a friend, not planning on blowing up the town hall. 'I tell ya what' Little Man eventually blurted out, 'you buy a return ticket at the machine and give me the second part and I'll let you off'. Right, so it was in his power to be nice and suggest an obvious and friendly solution, but he'd kept me there for a good ten minutes wielding the little power he has at someone who simply just wanted to meet a friend (who I was now late to see)...
On a different matter, I once had a paper travel card (it's been years!) and on showing it to a totally disinterested bus driver (quickly returning it to my pocket when I saw he didn't give a toss) I heard a genuinely angry booming voice telling me to come back as he couldn't see it. Now I have no problem with returning and showing it again, I'm no fare jumper, but to make such a deal of it simply to liven up his journey, to me seems totally ignorant. I wonder how many troublesome youths he's let jump on just so he didn't have to deal with the drama? Or how many innocent older ladies he's made stand searching for their purse at a 'buy before you ride' stop?
Of course you can't say this is true of all employees of Transport for London, but I think they should be made to realise that they are still representing the city at large and although it's only a minority of individuals, those individuals taint the view of the many. I've had enough run ins with people like that to make sweeping generalisations which I know is wrong, but one can't help but assume the worst when the worst is what so very often happens.
As a final thought after this little rant though, I wonder just how much is made per year on penalty fares alone? If the solution to my little issue today (and with Little Man) was so easily resolved by simply putting a ticket machine on the other side of the barriers, I do wonder why they don't. Am I just being cynical? Probably.
No comments:
Post a Comment