Once upon a time (either 2008 or 2013) I had to take a few trains through England as a foreigner. I bought my ticket and got on. At this one station (Kings Cross? Can’t remember…) I had to change trains and I figured I’d take the opportunity to pop upstairs for a smoke break.

Upon trying to reenter I realized my ticket wasn’t valid for entry anymore, as it would’ve been in the system I was used to back home, so I contacted one of the staff and asked for advice.

The staff member was a tall punk-looking guy with a Mohawk, and he explained the problem for me. He somehow managed to combine the looks of a hardcore punker with that of a very british rail official. Afterwards he helped me get back in: He had a ticket on him, and he tore it and handed me the magnetic half so I could reenter. I thanked him and went on my way.

Upon scanning the ticket I noticed it had an anarchist-symbol hastily written on it with a marker. Combined with the aesthetics of the guy who helped me I couldn’t help but conclude that he’s fighting the system from within.