RantWoman guesses that those concerned about fare collection on the Light Rail should be glad that the fare police are out lately with new vigor and new technologies for checking that one has actually "tagged" one's ORCA card.
RantWoman has decided, however, that she has a right not to be charmed by today's encounter. RantWoman got off the train at the station closest to home. RantWoman had her nose in her sudoku book and her fat pen out on the train and decided to plunk down on a bench on the platform, tend to a couple personal matters, and try to finish her puzzle. Thwack the cane was out, but folded up, hanging off RantWoman's bookholding hand to be precise.
A few minutes after sitting down, RantWoman heard a loud man's voice demanding from the platform across the tracks, "Sir, can I see your ticket or pass?" It took a couple rounds of this for RantWoman to figure out that she was the "sir" referred to and then to locate and be reasonably confident that the voice was coming from a security staffperson.
RantWoman pulled out her ORCA card with picture and disabled pass and waved it in the direction of the loud voice. RantWoman notes that the security staffperson already had not interacted with the significance of Thwack. RantWoman thinks it highly implausible that the owner of the loud voice could actually see anything but maybe the color from across the tracks.
RantWoman is tall and basically built like a linebacker. Maybe the staffperson had the superbowl on his mind. RantWoman notes that linebackers usually do not carry a purse. RantWoman would also generally recommend a more lowkey less belligerent approach!
Happy Trails to all!
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