CROZIER RAIL MOMENT. The 10.30 Northwest Line local is receiving passengers, and with the holiday and some evening events in Chicago, the train attracts large crowds, including some of our young men who haven't yet been properly socialized. One of them makes the mistake of unleashing a torrent of cuss-words (his vocabulary appears to be limited to such things) while the conductor is walking through, and the conductor goes to the upper gallery and informs him, "That's the kind of language that gets you off the train before your stop." The wretch goes into the blend, common these days, mixing contrition (sorry, sir) with defiance (you're on me because I'm young) and ultimately gets back to his default vocabulary, at which time the conductor tosses him and his buddies off the train, which hasn't yet left. A passenger nearby has a good imitation of the yobs in question: "Dude, Dude, they like totally tossed us off the train." Whether the dudes had a meeting with station security I don't know. And guys, what's with the backwards ballcaps? That's so September 10.

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