In which our intrepid hero returns home from another world.

For the benefit of those who’ve never lived in Sydney, NightRide is the bus service that replaces the trains when they stop running, late at night. (As opposed to when they break down. Or when it rains too heavily. Or when the day ends in a "y".)

I’ve lived in Sydney for about 12 years, but I’ve never had the opportunity to catch the NightRide from the north shore. Last weekend, I did, having made a late arrival (and somewhat later departure) from a friend’s birthday party in Chatswood.

The north shore NightRide was punctual, clean and sparsely passengered. The driver was courteous, no one vomited in the aisle and the couple three seats ahead of me felt each other up discreetly. Everybody kept to themselves and nobody sang anything badly at the top of their lungs. I didn’t even get hammered in the kidneys once, let alone get them pulped at the elbows of midgets.

If we live in the age of the politics of envy, then consider me officially envious. These guys have it so good.

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