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I briefly lived in Preston, and every day I’d spent about 1 ½ hours total on the 86 tram, riding up Smith St and through Northcote. I had a lot of time to contemplate the goings-on and daily tram happenings during my journey, and I’ve seen some pretty ridiculous stuff.

The guy that refused to tell the tram inspector his address, because he “didn’t know it,” so she had him phone his friends to figure it out.

A lady who dropped every shopping bag she was holding while getting on the tram, then did the exact same when exiting the tram. It sounded like she smashed a box full of wine glasses each time.

Silver spray-paint man, who roams Brunswick street and eternally has a can of chrome spray paint in his hand, as well as all over his face and chest. He smells nice, it’s always a pleasure to come across this local friend.

Random muttering/screaming/shouting/singing crazies.

Not to mention the daily sketchiness of the rear stairwell of the tram, where all the drunk guys sit sipping their pre-mixes.

I have come to the conclusion that there is no other tram in Melbourne quite as exciting as the 86. My advice: always secure a forward-facing seat near the front, never ride without validating your ticket or the inspectors will get you, beware of old ladies banging your legs with their gigantic shopping trolleys, and prepare for a wild ride… you never know what might happen.

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