19 Ten-Cent Pieces

Warning: The following post contains low level violence, strong language and adult themes. Parental guidance is recommended for readers under the age of 29.

Since the theft of my ever reliable 1991 Nissan Pulsar Hatchback, affectionately named Habib-Mufassa, I have been incredibly reliant on friends and family to take my lazy ass from point A to point B regularly. Recently this has become quite a heavy burden for my team of dedicated drivers as I am going through an oddly sociable faze, so I have resorted to catching public transport into the city on a couple of occasions in the past few weeks.

The trusty 59 tram has always served me well; and although its timetable is more erratic than Whitney Houston I still love it. So last night at 7.00pm I jumped on board, slinked into the least stained seat I could find and set the iPod to play my favorite mix of 90’s one hit wonders. As the tram rattled into the CBD I noticed a rather scattered young man stumbling down the tram in my direction, I foolishly hoped that the white iPod earphones would deter him from any attempt at conversation. I was wrong.

He motioned for me to take out the earphones, I begrudgingly complied. He proceeded to ask me for some spare change- not only did I not have any spare change; I had no change at all. I had paid for my 2-Hour Concession ticket with 19 ten-cent pieces that I scrounged from various sources around the house. So I apologized as politely as I could and went to put my earphones back in. Not yet content to leave me alone the boy then barked,

‘You must have money, your rich- you have an iPod!’

I desperately wanted to reply,

‘No actually I’m not rich, I won’t be buying lunch for the next six months so I can pay for this iPod. Now take a step back- you smell like crazy.’

But instead I said,

‘Sorry mate, I don’t have any money on me.’

It was at this point he got a sad look on his face and slunked down in the seat next to me. Suddenly I began to feel guilty because I couldn’t help out the poor guy, this feeling didn’t last long. He asked to have a look at my iPod, I showed him the screen and gave a nervous smile- then things began to get interesting.

He attempted to snatch the iPod out of my hand and leap out of the as we pulled up outside the Victoria Market. I think he severely underestimated my love for the iPod and the violent undercurrent that is always lurking just below my calm surface.

We struggled over the iPod for a moment, then he leaned in and grabbed me by the chain around my neck- at which point some strange 'Tram Ninja' powers were awoken within me. I managed to use one hand to free the iPod and the other to perform an arm twisting move that brought the guy to his knees. He was still holding on to my chain, and screaming,

‘Let go of my arm!’

I gave his arm an extra little twist and replied,

‘Let go of my f***ing chain!’

He let go of the chain and I let go of his arm, while giving him a shove in the direction of the door that was just closing. Next thing I hear is-

‘Tickets please!’

Ticket inspectors- great timing.

One inspector approached me, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened, I was in a bit of a daze but I managed to produce my ticket. The young man- who’s arm I hope I f***ing broke- hadn’t been able to escape the moving tram, and as I hopped off a couple of stops later he was still being harassed by three unfriendly inspectors… instant justice.

I know its daunting to get involved in these types of situations and I don’t blame people who are traveling alone for staying out of it, but to the group of four people (two adult couples) who sat there and did nothing- I hope you all get the bird flu.

There is a little bit of 'Tram Ninja' in all of us.