I had the following frankly bizarre exchange with an MBTA employee in the token booth this afternoon. As I approached he was talking animatedly with another employee in the booth. All I wanted was a couple tokens.

I slid a fiver under the window and said “two please.”

“Waddya want?” he snapped at me.

I said: “Two. I wanna go and come back.”

“Just tell me what you need!” the guy snarled.

“Two please,” I repeated, flatly.

He was spoiling for a fight, and was grumping and griping beneath his breath.

I talked over him, but matter-of-factly: “Two. Two. Two.”

I’m sure he would have thrown the tokens at me had there not been that bullet proof glass between us to protect me. Those cages were the best idea the T ever had. I think they ought to provide their passengers with stun guns, too. Like, when you buy a monthly pass. Just in case one of their employees escapes and comes at you. They’re like those zombies in 28 Days Later, aren’t they?

“Here,” he snarked, adding inexplicably (this is the bizarre part of the exchange): “And it’s my fault. Remember that.”

And, well, the truth is it was. I mean, all I wanted was two tokens. Not an outrageous request, I wouldn’t think. Without the bile, if you please. I don’t know what was going on with this dude, and I don’t really care. If I’d been pushy, rude, disrespectful, maybe then I’d feel bad for him. But you know, I walked away thinking, that jackass makes good money in that little bullet-proof booth of his. These creeps are the highest paid transit workers in America. And what’s so difficult about sliding tokens under the window a few hours a day? There’s a lot worse jobs out there, buddy.

It’s another good reason to buy a monthly pass, though. I mean, I want as little to do with these cunts as possible. I think they must recruit them from homeless shelters and mental hospitals.

As I said, I didn’t get too worked up. I don’t argue with people like that. Thing is, when someone’s provoking like that, it’s a cry for help, innit? And I’m not trained in that area. I can’t help you. So I got my tokens and went about my business.

The funk is thickening, though. Look around. It’s sinking in: Christmas comes but once a year. But look on the bright side, people: only 51 weeks to go.