I want to join all the public transport fare evasion, but just can’t deal with the stress

I trundle up the tram steps, look around for a vacant seat. A few sets of eyes avert from phones to me and back to their phones.

Then, as if making a last-ditch qualification bid for the Aussie sprint squad at the Glasgow Commonwealth Games, those same people sprint to the door, furtively looking for the next stop.

It’s then I clock the ticket inspectors, known in the bureaucracy as authorised officers, moving in packs.

The fare evaders are a mixed bunch. Some appear to be students, others sharp in business attire.

After two months of free tram travel across April and May, I realise I’ve missed this regular spectacle. My second Melbourne spectator sport, after AFL, is observing people on public transport.

Don’t get me wrong. I get no joy from seeing people interrogated and fined.

I have a complicated relationship with public transport fares. I never got over the axing of the Zone 1 short trip fare circa 2003, which robbed inner-city dwellers who rode just a few stops of a cheaper trip. I cycled to work for the best part of two decades in protest. The upside was that I got to childcare faster than by the tram, avoiding the late pick-up fee.

But these days I’m back using public transport more than ever. Some days I’ve used the tram, train and bus. Apart from V/Line, I’ve rarely had my Myki checked.

When the two-month free tram travel ended on May 31, replaced by half price fares until the end of the year, I pulled the house apart looking for my two Myki cards I put away for safe keeping.

Sure, I’ve been tempted not to pay if I’ve been on a packed tram and it’s a struggle to reach a Myki reader. Free is one of the best words in the English language, but I’m a firm believer in Murphy’s Law. Whatever can go wrong for me will go wrong so I expect the worst, try to plan and tap on.

In any case, these days I just can’t run fast enough to get out the door, and I like to relax and not jump at shadows, looking out for inspectors.

For some budget-stretched younger people who I’ve spent time with recently in an education setting, fare evasion is a game of chance. Paying fares is an affront. One was miffed when the Myki saved on his phone paid the fare without him meaning to. He’d been riding buses free for 12 months. “Had my phone in my chest pocket and I brushed past a reader and it tapped on. The only time I ever tapped on getting to TAFE,” he said. Another told me that when approached by inspectors she becomes irrational and loud, so they back off.

While inspectors are doing their job, fines are disproportionate for the harm caused. The fine for failing to produce a valid Myki or concession jumped from $296 to $314 on July 1 . One of my kids was fined last year. While the registered Myki was tapped-on, they weren’t carrying a concession card, left at home in the university backpack. PTV told me that the authorised officer can see the concession status attached to the Myki card when they use a hand held scanner. It seems disproportionate to hit a young concession user with a fine for hundreds of dollars when they’ve actually tapped on. Notwithstanding they should carry valid concession proof.