public transport & public interrogations

I couldn't have given him a more inadequate response - because I smiled. A Jack-Nicholson-in-One-Flew-Over-the-Cuckoo's-Nest smile. I had no idea what was going on, I was still trying to desperately place him, and I couldn't tell if I had misheard him or if he just threatened me. 

**

I've never really been the biggest fan of public transport, but the (somewhat new) installation of the trams on the Gold Coast have helped me in turning around my apparent snobbery. My dislike for public transport isn't born from any prejudices, I just hate the dirtiness that's almost always married to it. And yes, some will argumentatively tell me that the more traffic an area receives, the more there will be a build up of filth. Yes but no. Higher usage shouldn't mean greater filth - there's never an excuse to squeeze your half-eaten Subway sammich between seat cracks, or smoosh your chewing gum on door-opening buttons. Never. So far the trams are the cleanest modes, above buses and trains. They remain relatively coffee-stain free, but I did once have a front-row seat to a tradie reaching into the depths of his soul to cast out some unwanted DNA onto the tram floor. That was cool.

Using the tram has introduced me to some wonderful, colourful, and unusual characters. I once saw a heavily-tattooed Caucasian male in his late 20s follow around his baby son (who had just learned how to walk). The little man explored every thing and every one on the tram, and his father patiently and supportively walked close behind. Another time I witness a group of high schoolers chatting with a friendly cop about some of their friends who were arrested for drug possession/s. After the cop left, they started rummaging through their bags for "the pipes".

Until recently, none of my experiences really involved any interaction on my part. I was always the quiet observer, enjoying the show. That changed one afternoon, several weeks ago:

It was peak hour on the tram and I was sitting alone, with my headphones in. The sun was setting early, the tram was warm, and there was good energy from people who'd just finished work for the day. I was relaxed and listening to Hans Zimmer. It was one of those small daily moments when everything seems perfectly balanced. I was happy, comfortable and content.

And then someone sat down heavily next to me. And bumped me. Hard. It surprised me. It was like one of those jabs or shoves you'd playfully do to a friend. I turned from the window, smiling, almost laughing, to see which one of my friends had surprised me. I couldn't recognise the face at first, but I was determined to not be that friend who forgets everyone's names. Again. 

He was in his mid-twenties. Red hair. Stubble. Tee-shirt, shorts. Maybe shoes, maybe not. Was he from uni? My classes? What year? No... not uni. Definitely not uni. Work! He must be from work? I've had (literally) hundreds of colleagues over the years, surely he was one of the staff that had left? Or a new staff member? Mmm, no, not ringing any bells. Perhaps we went to school together? 

Or maybe he's a mutual friend? 

My neighbour? A guy from the deli at Coles...?

I don't know anyone at Coles. 

I don't know him. 

And I had been making un-blinking eye contact with him - my face not even a foot from his - for who knows how long. My eyes even started to sting. He broke the silence, and through my ear plugs I hear: "If I had a 9 millimetre here, what would you do?"

What?

I couldn't have given him a more inadequate response - because I smiled. A Jack-Nicholson-in-One-Flew-Over-the-Cuckoo's-Nest smile. I had no idea what was going on, I was still trying to desperately place him, and I couldn't tell if I had misheard him or if he just threatened me. 

I pulled out my ear phones and said, "I'm sorry?" but he just repeated the question, adding, "if I had it in my hand right now...". My heart (and gut) sunk as I realised this guy was not a familiar, but a stranger, and possibly a crazy. 

Like anyone struggling to figure out what's going on in an unfamiliar situation, I tried to catch someone else's eye on the tram for some prompts. Nothing. Everyone was too involved in their phones, iPads, a newspaper, or each other. I had to brave this guy alone. Again, he repeated the question... 

Me: "Nothing.
Stranger: "Nothing? Absolutely nothing?"
Me: "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're asking?"
Stranger: "IF I HAD A MILLION IN MY HAND AND SAID YOU COULD DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH IT WHAT WOULD YOU DO?"

And just like that, I became the crazy. At least he wasn't talking about guns.

Me: "I don't know."
Stranger: "You really don't know? Alright, alright. So, tell me something interesting about yourself."

All I wanted to do was embrace that rarely beautiful moment of peace before this guy came along, but instead I was having my personal space invaded, I was being interrogated, and this guys was maintaining disturbingly intense eye contact. 

I shrugged. 

Stranger: "Do you have a certificate?"

So this guy wasn't going to quit. I just shook my head.

Stranger: "Do you have a diploma? Surely you have a diploma. Everyone has a diploma."
Me: "No diploma."
Stranger: "Have you been to preschool?"

And now he started to mock me. Charming.

Me: "...yes...?"
Stranger: "Then what about [I have no idea what he says]?"
Me: "I don't know what that is."
Stranger: "What? Everyone knows. You know. A-B-C-D..."

Huh?

Me: "...ok."
Stranger: "Ok."

We sat there staring at each other for a little bit longer, and I started to consider telling him I wasn't enjoying the conversation. Just as I was about to attempt a dismissal he abruptly got up and rushed to the other end of the tram. I glanced around at the other passengers and noted a few people had been watching. I put my headphones back in and tried to act as if that sort of thing happened to me often. You know, careless, casual, unconcerned. Meanwhile my heart was thudding like a sacrificial tribe prepping a gift to the gods. I was anything but calm. 

Anyway, a few minutes passed before he rushed past again, to the other end of the tram. Thankfully, I didn't see him again. I've thought about that interaction many times, and wonder whether he was just a clinically sane person trying to make conversation with a fellow passenger. Should I have been less standoffish? Should I have asked him some questions back? I never know whether I'm jumping to conclusions about these types of situations. It's not like they happen too often, but I find that when I've had male strangers approach me, it's usually ended weirdly and I've been left a little scared, a little amused, and a little irritated. 

Public transport is weird in that you can more regularly find yourself in peculiar situations than you would in any other environment. For all I know, that guy might have just finished half his grilled chicken sub and the only available spot for him to deposit it on the tram was between our seats. Its not like I looked down to check.