Criminal
I was in Newcastle last week, visiting my mum. The riots in London were still unfolding at this point, and beginning to spread further north. My mum and I chatted about the crazy violence on the telly and made jokes about how, as my parent, she had a responsibility to ensure that I upheld the law. We both laughed because we know how much of a good boy I am.
On Wednesday, I decided to take a trip into the city on the Metro (Newcastle’s subway system. Yes Newcastle has a subway system.) The day before, I had had to walk for a good half an hour to Sainsburys to get change to buy a ticket. As I left the house, I knew that wouldn’t be a problem, as Mum had given me change.
As I stepped onto the platform, I noticed lots of people in green fleeces; Metro employees. I thought that it was strange how there were so many of them, but chuckled at their Geordie accents. A train arrived moments later.
I hopped on and sat down next to an old man. I thought about how uncomfortable the seats were, when a man brushed past me.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please have your tickets ready for inspection!’
Oh god.
Ohgodohgodohgod.
I hadn’t bought a ticket! After all the hassle the day before, getting change from Mum and noticing the employees, I’d forgotten to buy a ticket! In the dozens of times I’d caught the Metro in the past, I’d never seen any employees and I’d always had a ticket. Now I didn’t have one and they were everywhere.
I looked at the old man next to me. ‘I forgot to buy a ticket!’ I said, terrified.
His eyes widened, showing that he had heard me, but he continued to stare straight ahead, and didn’t fully acknowledge me. He was probably trying to distance himself from the felon sat next to him, so that he may not be considered an accomplice to this heinous act.
I’d never done anything like this in my life! I get panicky in supermarkets if I accidentally put a fancy doughnut through the self service machines as a regular doughnut! To me, if someone doesn’t pay a train fare in the hope that nobody will check, that person is a knave and a scoundrel. Now I was the scoundrel, but an accidental scoundrel.
Stations pass quite quickly on the Metro, so by the time the conductor had checked four or five people, we were at the next stop. I hopped up and eagerly stood by the doors.
‘Excuse me,’ I heard, ‘have ye’ got a ticket?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I forgot and I was going to get of here and buy one and I’m sorry but I forgot.’
‘Right, off here,’ he said, and walked with me as I got off the train. ‘Barry!’ he shouted back to another employee. ‘I’m just sorting this one out!’ He pointed at me. I felt my face reach gas mark 7 as everyone on the train looked and judged.
The guy was actually really nice about it and said that it happens loads, but it was his job to sort it out. I got fined twenty english pounds and sent on my way, feeling like a villain.
Maybe this was the start of my life as a criminal, and years down the line I’ll look back on this experience fondly before flicking on the new widescreen I’d just looted.
