Lucy and I are snagged by the transit police on the Firenze tram

After nearly 25 years of both visiting and living part-time in Italy with spotless records, we were nabbed for not validating our transport tickets this week in Florence. Argghh, fines of 50 euros for each of us! And it was totally preventable, caused by my laziness . . . and compounded by my stupidity.

It happened on the tram from the train station to the airport. When we boarded, the tram was so jam-packed—and we were the last to enter—that Lucy’s backpack initially got stuck when the doors closed. There was absolutely no way we could have pushed through the crowd to reach the little machine that would stamp our tickets with the day and time. And I figured there was also no way that a transit police officer could get on the tram either. Even if he could, it would be obvious that I couldn’t have stamped the tickets—plus, he would have to delay the tram to deal with such a crowd.

So we were perfectly safe, right? But there are nine other stops before the tram arrives at the airport, and after the seventh one, enough people had exited that we were able to take a seat. On the eighth stop, Lucy pointed out that now I would be able to reach the ticket validation machine. I shrugged. “We’re almost there now,” I said. I’d been standing most of the way, and now I had a seat, and I didn’t feel like getting up. Lazy. Stupid. Because on the ninth stop, two transit officers boarded. Now they only had about a dozen people in each car to confront. Smart. Easy prey.

Of course, I showed my purchased tickets and tried to explain about the crowded cars. “Not my problem,” the officer said. “It’s not crowded now.” His logic was impeccable. He asked for our passports and explained that if I paid immediately, the fine would be 50 euros for each of us, but if I waited, it would keep increasing to a maximum of 360 euros. It took me a few moments to get over my dismay and anger, but I realized that I was trapped. He had our passports in hand and was entering our data into his little computer. I had no doubt that if I refused to pay immediately, this incident would come back to bite me in the pocketbook later.

I bit my tongue, swallowed my pride and pulled out my wallet. He was just doing his job . . . and doing it smartly by entering the tram when there only a handful of people were on board. And because it was the second to the last stop, he was not delaying the tram. We all exited at the final stop and conducted our business on the platform at the airport.

One thing that prevented me from being more upset was the thought, “At least this will make an interesting blog entry.” I quickly pulled out my phone and opened the photo app. I knew the officer would object to having his photo taken, but he was busy entering the data for Lucy’s fine and didn’t notice what I was doing. Rebel that I am, I was able to quickly snap off one photo before his partner saw me and stopped me from taking more.

If you’re thinking that officers accepting cash payments might be pocketing the cash, those days are probably in the past. Now they have machines that record the data, take credit card payments, and print out receipts. They also work in teams of two. I doubt any officer would risk losing his job by taking payments “in nero.”

Losing 100 euros for being lazy and stupid upset us for a time, and I have to give Lucy credit for not being angrier with me. She had prompted me to validate the tickets, and I just shrugged her off. “It’s my fault too,” she said. “I should have just grabbed the tickets and done it myself.” But in the end, we grant ourselves a little grace. We had not intended to defraud the system, and while my first reaction was to tell the officer that I wasn’t going to pay, I’m happy I was able to get my emotions under control and not make a fool of myself. And also happy that I didn’t delay paying out of pride or anger and then have to cough up 720 euros at a later date.