People in Chicago are nice. The conductor on the train came by and I asked if I could buy a ticket right there. He said yes, $2.50. While I was getting the money he asked if the ticket machine at the station had been broken. I said, I don’t know, I saw the train and ran up the stairs to catch it. He said, that’s not what you’re supposed to say. So I said, that’s right, the machine was broken.
It’s just like on that radio show where Peter Sagal hems and haws to clue the contestant in that his guess is wrong so he can try again.
Years ago, my wife and I were in Chicago to see the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Our seats were the worst: they were in the last row among a bunch of high school students who obviously didn’t want to be there and talked the whole time. At intermission (before the major work that we wanted to see started), I ran down to the ticket office and told the lone man there, “I will pay anything to change seats.” I told him where we were sitting. He said, “I think you had some trouble getting up the stairs.” I replied, “No, no, we just don’t like the seats.” He said, again, “I think you’re an older gentleman and had some trouble getting up the stairs.” Then I understood :)
He wrote that we had trouble getting up the stairs down on a special list, gave us great seats for free, and we enjoyed the rest of the concert. That’s only ever happened to me in Chicago.
I would run into trouble right there. I have encountered somewhat similar situations and these always turn out awkward. I imagine how this would have turned had I been in your shoes.
conductor: ” That is not what you’re supposed to say.”
me: “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that I am supposed (stressed) to say anything. I have forgotten my lines at home.”
conductor: “In principle I could give you a fine. I am cutting you some slack, so do not come off like that.”
me: “So you would be willing to cut me some slack and sell me a ticket, but, as soon as I am not willing to play in some sort of charade and tell you something which we both know is bs, than you turn back into your bureaucratic mode?”
… at this point I probably would get a fine or something.
Sometimes I can resist the urge, but I find really unbelievable that you have to say something just for the sake of it to avoid a fine and get the ticket.
On the other hand, I can tell you that the San Fransisco bay area is a miserable place—I suffered a knife attack there (n=1, P<10^-16), and was pursued by gangs of rock throwing youth (n>5, P<10^-16)
No Chicago politicians on the train then…
Had the same thing at a restaurant heer in Texas: “We’re not supposed to offer you a glass of water on account of the drought unless you ask for it, so would you like to ask for a glass of water?”
Louis’ response definitely came to mind, but the waitress, like the ticket collector, was doing a delicate job of balancing obeying the law and working around it.
On the one hand, such laws have their purpose. “I’d better buy a ticket at the machine or else I might run into a nastier ticket-taker”, “Not giving me a glass of water is ridiculous, but hey, I am in a drought zone and should conserve major water uses.” Plus “Chicagoans and Texans have a sense of humor about the rules.”
On the other hand, building hypocrisy into our social fabric could get out of hand…
I’m a regular Chicago metra rider. They collect the surcharge all the time, but routinely cut people some slack. Mothers with babies get slack. People with heavy eastern European accents and a poor command of English get slack. You may have gotten on at Hyde Park, sounded like a New Yorker, and it’s near the beginning of the school year so you get some slack.
A bit of theatre sometimes goes along with this, as you’ve found. He’s looking for an excuse to cut you some slack.
Technically, this qualifies as corruption — but hey, cut me some slack here.
Peter Sagal does let people guess the wrong answer. It’s Michael Feldman that practically gives away the answers.
Yes, an urban hell-hole, as atrios would say