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Photo-a-Day somethingsomething
Yesterday, at 8am, lobotomised by lack of sleep, I shambled out of here with all the world appearing and operating like an old-school text adventure.
>LEAVE HOUSE.
>W
>ENTER TRAINSTATION.
>WAIT
>WAIT
>WAIT
>ENTER TRAIN
>WAIT
>WAIT
>WAIT
One hour/5kilometres/four stops later I arrived at Flinders Street Station with no idea of how to get to the suburb I needed. Which is when I realised today was that day Connex Trains got the arse, because the central, open-plan infobooth had a new logo on it. There was no one in there except two slavies so I figured I'd try my luck.
>FORWARD
A middle-aged woman in a clean NEW(!!!) uniform pops up from whatever she was doing beneath the desk, like a startled. peroxided groundhog: wide-eyed and uncertain.
> SAY "HOW DO I GET TO (SUBURB)?"
There is a moment of blank incomprehension, and then some mechanism kicked in within her. Her spine straightened, a smile locked into place and she delivered the information with practiced precision while simulatenously extending one bed-tanned hand to offer me an information card and close with "Welcome to Metro!"
The reason for this sudden galvinisation became immedately clear.
No less than six cameramen had somehow - miraculously - appeared all around me from absolutely fucking nowhere. One lens was focused on my hand taking the card, another was hovering by ear to catch every detail of her sweaty-toothed smile while the remaining four covered her cohort, my head, the desk, and the random politico that had turned up to associate himself with this Bold New Venture.
> SAY "WOULD I BE BETTER OFF GETTING A TRAM?"
I couldn't hear her response. It was whispered through that compressed smile, her eyes doing their best not to glance uncertainly at the cameras while quietly screaming "Please go away."
> SAY "WHICH TRAM DO I NEED?"
Again, subaudible, paralysed.
> SAY "WHICH TRAM DO I NEED?"
"Ask Yarra Trams."
Ah. On the launch morning of the new company, this face-bot just recommended the services of the competition, three times, on camera. Whoops.
> SAY "THANKS."
I turn, and bump my nose off a camera.
>N
>D
>WAIT
>WAIT
>WAIT
I have a suspicion that "Welcome to Metro!" is code for "Welcome to ten more years of the same substandard shit."
Also, I need to get a camera before Finland.
>LEAVE HOUSE.
>W
>ENTER TRAINSTATION.
>WAIT
>WAIT
>WAIT
>ENTER TRAIN
>WAIT
>WAIT
>WAIT
One hour/5kilometres/four stops later I arrived at Flinders Street Station with no idea of how to get to the suburb I needed. Which is when I realised today was that day Connex Trains got the arse, because the central, open-plan infobooth had a new logo on it. There was no one in there except two slavies so I figured I'd try my luck.
>FORWARD
A middle-aged woman in a clean NEW(!!!) uniform pops up from whatever she was doing beneath the desk, like a startled. peroxided groundhog: wide-eyed and uncertain.
> SAY "HOW DO I GET TO (SUBURB)?"
There is a moment of blank incomprehension, and then some mechanism kicked in within her. Her spine straightened, a smile locked into place and she delivered the information with practiced precision while simulatenously extending one bed-tanned hand to offer me an information card and close with "Welcome to Metro!"
The reason for this sudden galvinisation became immedately clear.
No less than six cameramen had somehow - miraculously - appeared all around me from absolutely fucking nowhere. One lens was focused on my hand taking the card, another was hovering by ear to catch every detail of her sweaty-toothed smile while the remaining four covered her cohort, my head, the desk, and the random politico that had turned up to associate himself with this Bold New Venture.
> SAY "WOULD I BE BETTER OFF GETTING A TRAM?"
I couldn't hear her response. It was whispered through that compressed smile, her eyes doing their best not to glance uncertainly at the cameras while quietly screaming "Please go away."
> SAY "WHICH TRAM DO I NEED?"
Again, subaudible, paralysed.
> SAY "WHICH TRAM DO I NEED?"
"Ask Yarra Trams."
Ah. On the launch morning of the new company, this face-bot just recommended the services of the competition, three times, on camera. Whoops.
> SAY "THANKS."
I turn, and bump my nose off a camera.
>N
>D
>WAIT
>WAIT
>WAIT
I have a suspicion that "Welcome to Metro!" is code for "Welcome to ten more years of the same substandard shit."
Also, I need to get a camera before Finland.
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Only eight years, no?
With 46 NEW TRAINS!!!
But an hour to go 5km? It's almost better to walk it.
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AND YOUR SOUL.
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That said, all this shit going down is probably just MEAN-HEARTED SABOTAGE from the departing management. Their last act was to hire ninja gremlins to go fuck shit up.
But who knows? It's early days. It is though, a little like inheriting a shitty trainset from your older brother, who ran it ragged, punched you a bit, and then left home.
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