Evitando Multas

I just took the commuter train from my apartment to the downtown, a welcome relief from the hot subway that only takes one stop to get to the centro instead of the 15. Being that it's a Sunday, the ticket office on the platform at my local sleepy train station was closed. That didn't really bother me, as I'd seen people in the past just buying their tickets at the downtown train station right before passing through the ticket inspection to leave the platform.

Upon arriving at Retiro Station, I approached one of the ticket inspectors and asked if there was a machine I could use to buy my ticket (which costs about a US quarter) with exact change. They asked where I got on the train, as apparently it is only permitted to buy your ticket at Retiro if the ticket office at your origin was closed. This all made sense to me. What then threw me a curveball, however, was when they insisted that I was wrong, and that the ticket office at my station had been open. No, not the one on the inbound side, but on the outbound side, about a 10-minute walk away, and that it had been my responsibility to know that and purchase my ticket before boarding. I spent a few minutes arguing to the best of my ability, alternating between the sad-lonely-kid-from-another-country and a responsible, coherent, Spanish-speaking adult. Neither worked.

Fortunately, at the other ticket window, a small scene was developing among some of the other people who had boarded with me at Carranza. One man, a well-dressed businessman with a brief case, was becoming agitated, and I decided to abandon my argument and try to tag along to his. He started getting really worked up, yelling, "I can't believe this! I'm in my own country! I'm going to miss my bus you bastard!" (all in Spanish, of course) until the ticket attendent actually came out of the office to try and shut him up. Eventually, he stormed past the inspectors, not paying a dime, and huffed and puffed right out of the station.

I then walked up to the window, and as calmly and respectfully as possible said, "I'm not in my own country, and I'm not yelling, but the ticket office was closed, and I'd like to pay my fare of 65 centavos." She took my coins and handed me the ticket and I walked out.

By the way, not that it makes anyone in this story look any better, but want to know the cost of the fine for not having bought a ticket? US $2.50.