Pavlov’s Cat wrote about mobile phone etiquette yesterday, in response to Darlene’s thoughts on tram manners in general, and it reminded me of the cruddiest period of tram travel in my life. When I was a nauseous pregnant woman (roughly 30 weeks out of 40, morning noon and night) I was also without a permanent job. I was temping at various places in the city and inner suburbs, working with people I hardly knew. Fabulous position to be in when you regularly look green and dash to the loo (or lunge at the wastepaper basket) I’m sure you can imagine. One of the many many things that set me off was the smell of coffee, which I am hopelessly and irredemably addicted to, as is pretty much everyone else in Melbourne. One of the things that’s happened over the last few years, much to the horror of my Grandma, is that eating and drinking on the way to work has become commonplace. Can you see where this is going?

Every morning I would get on the tram, surrounded by people sipping their cafe lattes, and I would stand there hanging on while the tram lurched from side to side and around corners, and people would see me turning green and they’d lean as far away from as they could on a very crowed tram, and then I would have to get off. Sometimes just getting off the tram was enough to make things right. Sometimes I headed for the nearest rubbish bin. Sometimes it took two or three trams to get to work where normally it would take one. This was problematic and the Bloke started driving me to work. He was working from home, so it wasn’t exactly on his way but he’s good like that.

So, dear people of Melbourne, please, for the comfort of your fellow travellers: keep your phone calls brief, avoid intimate discussions in public, and give your coffee the respect it deserves by drinking it at home or in a cafe out of a proper cup.