What is the funniest or worst thing you’ve seen on Melbourne public transport?


melbourne-busWe’ve all got one of those public transport stories… it’s the crazy folk or the funny situations that make your daily commute interesting.

Maybe you saw someone trying desperately to get away without paying for a ticket, perhaps it was the most obnoxious bunch of teenagers you’ve ever seen… perhaps it was something so funny, you had to be there to believe it.

What is your funniest or worst Melbourne public transport story?


  1. On th 59 tram, there was a guy talking to a 1kg bag of flour. Then he lit up a cigarette and stared at everyone who looked at him

  2. Someone trying to pierce her own nostril on the train from Melbourne Central to Jolimont. I know, it was pretty “ick” but strangely pretty funny as well

  3. Once I was on the Hoddle Street bus, heading home from a hard day nursing, chatting to a colleague. The man behind me leant forward and spat on me! Charming…

  4. A few years ago, I was on a tram and two overweight tram inspectors were on opposite ends of the tram. As they were walking through the aisle, they needed to pass each other but couldn’t without a lot of trouble as they were too large. It was funny to watch.

  5. Some guy sniffed my hair! Actually got up from his seat, walked past me, stopped, bent down AND SNIFFED MY HAIR!!!!!! WTF?

  6. I once saw (and heard) an obnoxious and abusive drunk on the train. A huge Maori bloke walked the length of the carriage and did a short Haka in front of the drunk. The drunk was terrified, and never said another word! The whole carriage clapped the Maori as he quietly returned to his seat.

  7. Jennifer reminds me of the following. In the days of my misspent youth, I caught an old green No 88 tram to Preston from the city after an evening out with the lads. Those old trams had a central wooden seat area that was open to the elements being designed for smokers, and perhaps drunks, while each end of the tram had enclosed passenger compartments where the conductress and sensible non-smokers sat on wintery evenings.
    Not drunk, but shall we say very happy, I was first seated in that central area and had just opened my packet of fish and chips when it occurred to me that I would be more comfortable in the enclosed area. So I gathered up my parcel of fish and chips, opened the door and said to the conductress “Can I bring my fish and chips up here?” She said “Yes” so having just then realised how I had worded that request I then pretended to throw up. Well I thought it was funny, ummm . . she didn’t. I guess you had to be there. :)

  8. At about 3am on New Year’s on the Lilydale train starting from Flinders St station the carriage is full of people in various states of inebriation, including one girl who is slouched over on her aisle seat. She does not look like she’s having a good time as she lurches about with the jerks of the train. Before we’re even out of the loop she quietly opens the large purse she’s carrying, pulls out a smaller purse inside it and proceeds to throw up in it. She closes it, places it back inside the larger purse, and then puts her purse on the floor, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.


    Somebody decided that sometime between 7.30 and 8am, twice a week, is the best time for Armaguard to come and empty the cash tins from the ticket machines. So everybody needs to wait for the machine, thereby missing their train, or take their chances on the tender mercies of the Authorised Officers (more of them later) at their destination.
    Eventually I squeeze onto a train and of course there’s nothing to hang onto, the only hand-rails are directly above seats, because these things aren’t actually designed to have passengers; I’m over six foot tall so at least I can brace my hand against the ceiling every time the train lurches. Naturally my crotch is in someone’s face, and as I give up on the crossword cause I’ve dropped my pen, I wonder why it is that I always end up standing cheek-to-jowl with the guy who had Dim Sims and Sauerkraut for breakfast and washed it down with fermented Yak’s milk.
    At every station between mine and Richmond there appears to be an abundance of self-important prats whose Big Moment every morning is to yell out that There’s Plenty Of Room Down That Aisle, Can You Move Down Please, and one day I’m going to be standing just close enough to one of them to remind him or her that screaming into my ear will not assist anyone, and with only one coffee in me I do Not Play Well With Others.
    My trains don’t go through the loop because that would be useful, so I have to change at Richmond; Connex eventually heeded some of the complaints about their complete lack of customer service and the fact that nobody ever really knew where the hell a train was leaving from, or when, so they now have a nice announcy-person on every platform. They left the automatic announcements running as well, and every microphone held by one of these announcy-people is linked to every platform, so they all talk over eachother and if we had any energy left this would make us angry, but we trudge around like well-dressed sheep from platform to platform, hoping for a Loop train we can squeeze onto. Fermented Yak’s Milk Guy sticks close.
    I get a loop train to my station, approach the exits, and yippee, the Authorised Officers are there, and oh goody for them, they’ve got one. I flip my ticket and wander up to their latest prey, and wonder who the hell taught these creatures how to deal with people? They catch some poor schlub without a ticket, and then they stand close around him or her. In a circle. That is absolutely the best way, without any doubt, to get somebody’s back up, but that’s probably what they’re after, the chance to flex a bit of muscle and call the real cops to help them deal with a violent situation they created and will later cut and paste eachother’s statements to portray a vicious seething homicidal fare evader.
    I’m somehow running a bit early, so I amuse myself by standing next to the alleged fare evader, and grinning like an idiot at the Authorised Officers. They grunt for a while and eventually remember the ten-minute lecture they got on Section 458 of the Crimes Act which doesn’t give them an arrest power for Dude Being A SmartArse, so they just act tough at me, which is funny.
    Eventually they let their “offender” go with a warning, and I smile beatifically at them and walk to work. Upstairs to the office, as I approach the coffee machine I remember it’s my turn to buy coffee and I did buy coffee, on my way home last night, and the coffee is sitting on the table in the hall at home, and there’s no coffee here and people will die today.