We wuz Robbed – a question of keys

photo 1Now the renovation of my office is finished, I’m allowed to go back to Zoo station.  I was looking forward to enjoying my freshly painted new office. So you can imagine my disappointment when lo and behold, I opened my new meal room door, to be confronted with

Graffiti!!  My God it gets everywhere. And why can’t they paint something interesting.

But inside the office!! Did it slide in under the door?

I assumed that some kids had got in while the workmen were there and that there was nothing to worry about.  I started using the cosy little meal room as my office and leaving my overcoat, my uniform jacket and safety vest there in the evenings.

Until Thursday when I opened up the office door and discovered my clothes and the fire extinguisher were no longer there. I’d been robbed and by someone who’d painted a smiley face on the door. (Make a defiant gesture at me, why don’t you?)

Oddly the microwave and the other electrical appliances where untouched.  At first I couldn’t believe what had happened.  I thought maybe my aged brain had forgotten where I had put the coat or that a work mate was playing a trick on me.  I looked inside the fridge and the microwave and everywhere else.

Why steal my uniform?  When they came, the police told me that Metro uniform is the outfit of choice for graffiti artists loitering around rail yards hoping to tag trains.  I was oddly comforted to think of my clothes leading this outlaw life instead of just being dropped in some dumpster.

The meal room is separate from the office and low security with no alarm.  It can be accessed by a key that’s easy to copy.  All sorts of maintenance crew have these keys so that they can use the toilets next door. Apparently other less savory people have keys too.

The strangest part of the whole story was that my overcoat turned up again.  A kindly passing golfer picked it up on the golf course and brought it back.  It was so wet with rain it took two days to dry out.

I wish the suit jacket had turned up.  The old one was very flattering to my figure.  The new one just makes me look dumpy.  (yes I am that shallow :))

photo 2

 

A long way from home

Allora Plant Nursery, Darwin
Allora Plant Nursery, Darwin

Every year in August I try to escape from Melbourne winter and go somewhere warm. Last year we went to 3700 kilometres away to Darwin.  You can’t get much further away.
I was poking around in a plant nursery just down the road from our caravan park when I discovered Tah Dah !!!!

– A Melbourne train carriage!!   (for those gunzels among you it was Hitachi carriage no. 1971T)

Allora Plant Nursery
Allora Plant Nursery

Confessions of a marshmallow heart

I have done an unwise thing. On a day when it was only 10 degrees, Ms A. showed up at the station barefoot looking very cold and sad after being discharged from hospital. She burst into tears because she claimed not to have the fare back to her home in the country and even though I didn’t believe her, I was overwhelmed by pity and bought her a hot chocolate. Why unwise?

Well A. is a serial and serious pest who shows up at stations all over the system and threatens to jump under the trains. You have to take these threats seriously the way you have to take bomb threats seriously so there’s always the police and the pso’s and the ambulance and hospital. Lots of drama.

She seemed pretty ok that day so maybe they’d given her something in the hospital to calm her down. In the end after a cigarette (somehow broke people always have money for cigarettes, don’t they?) she very docilely got on the train to go to Traveller’s Aid at one of the central stations. Traveller’s Aid lend people small sums of money for tickets home.

Later when the police came by on patrol, I told them I’d seen A. and where she’d gone and they went off to check on what she was up to. As it happened this was the patrol that had arrested her at our station the previous night for threatening to jump under a train.

Well I can only hope that she prefers negative attention and that my giving her a hot chocolate and talking to her nicely will not have the same effect as giving food to a stray cat. It’s all very well to complement me for being charitable but really she’s not someone who should be encouraged to hang around at a station. I fear my Station Master will have cause to curse me.

Is this a definition of Innocence?

Was startled by the clothes of a young African man I saw this week. He was wearing his Michael Jackson “Beat it” outfit – colorful jacket and skinny jeans. On his belt was a huge buckle depicting the silhouette of a curvaceous young lady against the background of a confederate flag. I guess the confederate flag just doesn’t have much meaning for 16 year olds from Sudan.

michael-jackson-performing

The Green Cheek Conure

Green Cheek Conure by Pyrrhura Molinae from Wikipedia
Green Cheek Conure by Pyrrhura Molinae from Wikipedia

 

Saw a delightful thing on the way home.  A handsome youth in the train had a little parrot, a Green Cheek Conure, sitting on his shoulder.  The bird got tired of being ignored and started pulling his ear buds and the young man took it in his hand and scratched its head and tummy till it was completely blissed out.  I couldn’t help admiring the deft way he handled this fragile little creature.

When the train stopped at the station, he put the bird on his finger and held it out the door where it obediently dropped a little poop on the platform.  Then he brought it back into the carriage and sat it on his shoulder again.  I was so impressed and so is everyone I’ve told about this.  How on earth did he train a bird to do that?  Unfortunately during the whole exercise he avoided any eye contact so I didn’t get the chance to ask.

 

 

Hallelujah! It’s the unmanned stations!

While putting posters up at the unmanned stations this week, I tried to avoid making eye contact with the young man with a bottle of wine in his pocket who was staggering about under the station sign.  Tried and failed.

“Miss Miss,” he cried, and I cringed expecting something rude.

“Do you think anyone will know I’ve been drinking?” he asked.

That day the people in the control room were clearly in high spirits.  After one announcement telling us that we were currently running a good service with all trains running on time, the faint strains of the Hallelujah Chorus could be heard in the background.

Gunzelling with Jane at Fawkner Station

mortuary carriage

So this is a mortuary carriage designed to carry coffins out to cemeteries in the early 1900’s when Fawkner cemetery was purposely built encircling Fawkner Station. They used to carry the coffins behind those cute little doors and apparently the mourners would go in the carriage in front. Personally I can visualize any number of gruesome horror stories set in this carriage.
I discovered this van when I was putting up Change of Service posters at Fawkner Station this week. The roses and trees of the cemetery surrounding the station make it both more attractive and gloomier than other stations.
It’s also the first cemetery I’ve ever come across that has a tea rooms. Of course they do after funeral catering there, but when I popped in there a couple of chaps in orange vests were in the café area eating pie and chips for lunch as if it were any old high street caf.

*Gunzelling is train and tram language for train spotting

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It’s hard to win, sometimes.

One of my workmates at the junction is annoyed.  He thought to “friendly up” his announcements on a cold morning by telling everyone to try and keep warm on this chilly morning.  A furious lady arrived at the ticket window complaining about having to endure such a disgustingly patronizing announcement when she was shivering in the freezing wind down on the platform. It’s hard to win sometimes.

Be kind to your customer service staff people.  They are just the messengers.

Continuum 11: Southern Skies

Faded images of Continuums past Thanks to Terry Frost
Faded images of Continuums past Thanks to Terry Frost

I’ll be attending Continuum 11 this Queens Birthday weekend.

I’ll be on panels about Sherlock Holmes, about whether we can forgive our favorite writers when they turn out to be horrible people, about whether we should remove the Golliwogs from Noddie and whats good in Comedy SF fiction.
I’ll also be helping to launch Ticonderoga’s new Anthology Hear me Roar.
which is full of Female Superhero stories, including one by me called Barista.
And I’ll be joining the happy throng Welcoming Jason Nahrung to the Clan Destine Press family which his two vampire novels Blood and Dust and The Big Smoke.
How much can a Koala Bear?
If you see me there come up and say hello.

Great new anthology from Ticonderoga Publications
Great new anthology from Ticonderoga Publications

 

They come in pods (like whales)

My station is being renovated at the moment and so I’m sharing a portable toilet with workmen.  They are pleasant chaps and I was touched to find that they have put a big sign in the toilet saying “There is a lady who shares this toilet so please keep it clean.” Of course I in my innocence thought they were talking about puddles but a cynical male friends suggested they might be referring to porno pin-ups. (Even then I thought they were sweet to consider me.) The renovation is due to the imminent arrival of Protective Services Officers to guard the station at night.  PSO’s come in pods like whales and apparently my office was not swish enough to be a pod for them.  I was quite keen on the idea at first.  I’m getting insulation in my toilets for goodness sake.  (such luxury!!) However now they’ve decided to restump the room, rendering me officeless for the next month.  Its mid-winter in Melbourne and 10 degrees in the wind.  I’m becoming less keen by the icy minute.

This image was taken from http://www.kayakingtours.com/orca-tours/kayaking-killer-whales.htm
This image was taken from http://www.kayakingtours.com/orca-tours/kayaking-killer-whales.htm