Autumn in the City
It’s been a particularly lovely Melbourne autumn this year but now the days are getting shorter as we head into winter. Taking the city bound tram and heading off very early to work on golden autumn mornings has been quite enjoyable for the first half of the trip.
But recently on my tram line, the older trams – which are less than half the size of the newer trams – have been in service first thing in the mornings. This means that by the time we hit St Kilda Road things are getting more than a tad cosy.
There are so many passengers crammed onto the tram that it’s impossible not to stand on toes or inadvertently whack another commuter with bags, elbows or furled umbrellas. Fortunately, most city workers are adept at keeping themselves nice in tight situations.
There is however the odd unfortunate situation – such as the tall businessman who was strap hanging when he accidentally sneezed on my hair. It was very quiet on the tram and several passengers immediately disengaged from their mobile devices. I suspected that they were gleefully anticipating a little argy-bargy.
The businessman was mortified and he apologised fervently. Even though I kept assuring him that I knew it was accidental, it made no difference because several passengers were glaring at him. One woman was making furious tut-tutting noises.
There is a code of ethics on public transport that is enforced by the dirty look. Even more effective are the commuters who can pull off a withering look. This is usually reserved for passengers who hog more than one seat, or those who use their mobiles on speaker phone – while having a domestic argument with their partner.
It was obvious when the businessman kept glancing at the door, that he was trying to decide if he should just get the hell off the tram at the next stop and leave his embarrassment behind. He stuck it out till Flinders Street and then bolted with his head down.
I couldn’t wait to get off the tram and get caffeinated at my favourite city café. The owner is a jovial bloke and within a couple of minutes I was situated under a tree at a café table. I watched the golden leaves detach themselves and drift down.
Some landed on my head which made me smile. All was well in the world.