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Transit Cops.

transit cops wear grey and black and carry handcuffs, and make their through the train carriage holding a little black notebook tightly in their hands, as if it were a bible and they were bringing the truth.

they appear in pairs: the first is middle aged and bloating outwards while second is younger and thin. it does not matter if one is male and the other is female, the pair will always look like this.

i hate them.

all of them.

i especially hate them in the election months, when the government fills their offices with toxic gas and forces them onto the trains. i hate the way their little note books flip, and they look at you the same way a cop does when you've emerged from a house holding a bloodied knife and the heads of your victims.

it should go without saying that i've been caught by transit cops. twice, though the years were far removed from each other. and it should go without saying that the other day i spent ten minutes standing next to a pair of transit cops as they flipped through their books and murmured to each other, acutely aware of the fact that i had the wrong ticket on me.

(the ticket that for a dollar ten, allows me to ride trains and buses. i should point out that when i got caught last, the hundred dollar fine was really quite pale next to the money i'd saved just going to uni for the past four months.)

my dream is that one day public transport will be free, and that transit cops will find themselves selling magazines in the yellow jacket of the unemployed. i hope that they will be wearing their bland grey and black uniform and clutching their tattered notebooks as they do so.