Lippy Little Twit I quite enjoy standing at the barriers of the station sometimes. You really do meet all sorts of people, and the barrier staff don't mind an extra pair of hands being around. This kid came up to the barriers and asked, well, actually told me to let him through. I said, "Of course - show me your ticket." "I ain't got one." He was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. "Well, I'm sorry, mate," says I, "you won't get through without one." "But I've gotta get back to London!" What do you want me to do? Come out and pay for your ticket myself? I told him again, as politely as a Londoner possibly can, it wasn't gonna happen. Then comes the beautiful line, the line that spelled out the glory of this conversation; this is the source of inspiration for you even reading this Opuss now. "My dad works in McDonald's at London *station*." (I won't name any of our stations etc in case I get shot by my company, and I'm not talking about losing my job.) His dad worked in the McDonald's at our London terminus, and apparently that entitled him to free travel. "I came through free before. There was no one on the barriers." Well, there is now, fool. I ask him if he has a staff travel pass or anything like that with him. No. "Well then, unless McDonald's runs trains for itself that I don't know about, the only trains that run through here are mine, and unless you work for the train company, you're just a regular passenger." "I'll call my dad - he'll tell you it's ok." "Ah, so your dad's a manager in the railway company?" "Nah, he works in McDonald's." "Oh, not for the trains?" "Nah." "Well, in that case, if anything, I have authority above him, and I say you don't travel without a ticket." I was half tempted to ring London and get his dad on the phone to explain that his son was being an upstart idiot, but then he really put his foot in it. A passenger came through the barriers and this lad tried to hold them open. The chap operating the gates, the most peaceful, jovial soul I know, stormed out of his booth up to the gate and brought his red face inches from the boy's: "Break my barriers and you'll pay to fix them! Let go of my gates now! Don't touch my barriers or I'll make you pay for repairs! It's £200 to fix just one of these! Hold it open like that and I'll make sure the repair fee comes out of your pocket!" I was almost on the floor laughing. The boy let the barriers go. My colleague went and sulked in his booth. The boy turned to me: "You're shit at your job." "Young man, if I was shit at my job, you would be on a train by now."