premise: that, more than a blog, is a private diary that I commend the network, perhaps because fascinated by the fact that even if nobody reads it, someone might read.
Not that I lack things to write, but I miss the time. If I had 48 hours a day, Daily Mail and my thoughts. Especially against the current. To say, there is a 90% chance that I think so radically different from you about gypsies and international policy. Also on Alitalia, and much more on the abolition of the ICI. But maybe you'll never know (and live equally well).
I stumbled across the blog " Noticketonthebus " of kingfreak, controller which tells about his ups and downs, so I would say almost poetic, and simultaneously proposed to improve the civic sense in this regard. Congratulations to kingfreak for a better synthesis of the two objectives would be really impossible.
Just because I like to be against, but without the intention of opposition, I would like to tell a story in which "good" and the abuse and the "bad" is the controller, it is a true story.
Rome, one of a hot July day. Krupp Professor and Professor Meyer, internationally renowned mathematicians (I changed the names but they really exist) for a long time waiting for the bus. The professor wielding two tickets in hand, so as to keep them, ready to speed up the arrival of public transport. The slim physique the professor is a bit 'worn by its a which is not used. You would not want to show it, but Professor Krupp understands. One might ask why not take a taxi. The fact is that both are accustomed to the bus. In their city, in fact, they move only by public transport, working and punctual. So much so that neither of them felt the need to buy a car. The wait is prolonged until nearly half an hour when the bus finally arrives.
Alas, it is full. People from all rooms and three doors, including the central one which would be reserved for the descent. Krupp Professor takes a look at his colleague. They like to see on his face motion of discouragement. Its old-fashioned gentleman of good repute is called upon to protect the damsel in distress, then, feeling compelled to take matters in hand, decide. "Kommen Sie mit, bitte," said the colleague, and finds a way through the front door. Moreover, almost miraculously, a place freed right next to the door at the drop-down is near. By decision helps the teacher to sit Meyer. Swap a few words of comfort to her, maybe lingers a bit ', swaying in the success of chivalry. Then it's time to stamp your ticket. However, it is not exactly easy for him to go against the bus full, to get to the stamping machine placed in front the back door. The fact is that the controller salt at the very moment when the reaches.
must say that, like any true scientist, Professor Krupp bears no resemblance to a scientist. I would say that he looks like a bum or an illegal immigrant. For him, get to enter into an Italian bank is a real tragedy. The fact is that it gives certainty to the controller to have hit the target. So you print a wry smile on his face and addressed him rudely giving of yourself: "Just look ', remember to stamp only when you see the controller, eh?". Krupp speaks near-perfect Italian, though with a Teutonic accent evident. "Ach, I zcuzi time, the bus was full, my colleague is so Stanko, I did setere then you have come to QVA timprare. "But the old fox returning to Rio Betrayed (sorry kingfreak) certainly does not impress from the usual excuse from peanuts.
It is an argument . I would not say an altercation, because Professor Krupp is a very quiet man and would be quite willing to even pay the fine, do not, however, to suffer the ironic speculation on your honesty. (I saw the fines as they do in his country: ".. . and next time remember that this type of ticket is not valid here, sir. ") understands that the attitude of the controller affects his humble attitude, he pulls out a sheet of paper with the letterhead of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and explains who is here at the invitation of the Italian Government and that the short you can believe if he says that the ticket (paid in advance, by the way) wanted to punch him. Nothing to do. The heat begins to irritate even the Professor Krupp, who cut short impatiently: "I do not speak Italian." A true assists for the controller, new Sherlock Holmes, who triumphantly exclaims: "Oh, before you know the Italian and suddenly you do not know anymore! What a strange!"
The matter would last maybe much longer. However, several passengers had noticed the moves of the couple and possibly the conditions of my colleague. So a couple of women to the controller confirmed that the couple actually had just uphill. Degrade, perhaps, a day already unpleasant in itself.
course, during this event, the many abuses that populate every bus Roman down, leaving it half empty.
