THE TICKET MACHINE... by The Mowdog...

The Ticket Machine

Sadly self-aware,

Assuredness awry,

Confidence lacking,

With clammy coppers

Hot in hand and mouth quite dry…

I awaited the conductor’s military

Approach, uniformed and spry;

His straps crossed and no slacking,

Worn bag rattling its own deep, leathery coffers,

The balance precise, the humour quite dry…

Eagerly, I would glare

At his silver machine;

A ticket clicking

Through smooth fingers:

Sleight of hand and quite clean…

I  envied the conductor’s nimble

Skill, uniform and mean, 

His straps crossed and thumb flicking

Worn lever;  oh, my own thumb there to linger!

The action precise, the pleasure quite serene…

Pete Ray

October 2015

As a kid, travelling on Birmingham’s buses in the early 1960s, I was totally mesmerised by the conductors’ ticket machines… The way that the tickets appeared, simply from the press of a thumb and the flip of a finger was brilliant… 

I desperately wanted a go. I was too shy to ask. 

After retiring from my teaching job at Birmingham Museum, a new history gallery was opened there and incredibly, a ticket machine was displayed, which brought back my longing. Finding one for sale on eBay, the bidding was won last Tuesday evening @ 21.07 hours and I now have my own ticket machine…

It’s what I do…