Lake Effect: Aug. 28, 2008

This week's Lake Effect deals with TRAX ticket-vending machines.

Now, don't get me wrong: I love TRAX. I am a firm supporter of public transportation in general, and of Utah Transit Authority in particular. UTA does a great job, especially considering that a majority in the Legislature think public transportation is a communist plot to overthrow America and transport U.N. jackboots to our doors on some fateful red dawn.

It's just that, when you're in a hurry to get to work, and you've got a bunch of dollar coins in your pocket--Sacagaweas and Presidentials and even a Susan B. Anthony from the disco era for goddess' sake--and the stupid machine keeps spitting them back out at you even though it was that same machine that gave them to you the day before, and you can hear the shrill semitones of the "door closing" whistles as you're about to miss a Very Important Cover-Story Meeting--well, it's an easy enough decision just to say, "Screw it!" and climb onto the train.

And then, when a TRAX cop gets on at the next stop demanding a ticket, and you decide that an excuse like, "The machine wouldn't take my dollar coins!" sounds too lame, so you decide to engage in a little theatrical performance and start "searching" through your jacket pockets for the "ticket" you "bought" before boarding--making sure the TRAX cop sees that you've got at least 20 tickets on you from previous rides, because you're something of a packrat and never clean out your pockets, but at least you're obviously a regular ticket-buyer and not some slacker trying to defraud the system--and then the TRAX cop doesn't go for it, but keeps waiting and waiting and finally asks you pointblank, "Did you buy a ticket today?" ... well, then, of course you can't lie directly to his face (because of some weird thing from childhood) so you hang your head in remorse and say, "No, officer, I really didn't."

And you still hope for mercy, because basically you're just a good citizen caught at a bad moment, but then, when the TRAX cop makes you get off the train at the next stop with a bunch of teenagers who are obviously sluffing school and up to no good making really lame excuses, and you're thoroughly shamed during the 20 minutes it takes to be fined $100, while the TRAX cop wastes time flirting with those teenagers--which is kind of gross, really, because even though the TRAX cop is kind of hot, why isn't he flirting with you since you're much closer to his age?--and all the while, good upstanding citizens are looking at you and judging, just as you have looked and judged in the past, and you're thinking all the time about how the Very Important Cover-Story Meeting has already started, and everybody's wondering where you are ...

... well, at that point, you start to hate those damn ticket machines. That's all I'm sayin'.