At Rose Hill station the morning there was a huddle around the ticket office, so I got on the train with the intention of buying a ticket off the guard on the train. He never came round, so I went to look for him. As he did his duties of opening the doors at Woodley station I approached him, tenner in hand, but he just retreated into his cab at the back of the train and slammed the door.
I knocked, he answered. I asked if I could buy a ticket. "No, I'm not well," he said. And slammed the door again.
So I joined the queue of about 30 people at Piccadilly to buy a ticket off the surly (and burly) GFS security guards who make you feel like a criminal.
Boz enjoyed this story.