When my aunt was fourteen, she was a champion sprinter and went to all kinds of events related to that. One such thing was in Sydney, about 120km north of where they lived, and her parents couldn't go with her to that particular one. Reluctantly, they allowed her to take the train.
Remembering that this is the days before mobile phones were invented.
For whatever reason, my aunt sucked and decided to not buy a return ticket. She can't remember if she was just a confused kid who didn't realise she'd bought a one-way or whether she was being a defiant fourteen year old. Whatever. This is her suck.
What CITYRAIL's suck is that when they asked for her ticket on the return trip and she didn't have one, they put her off the train, alone, at the next station.
The next station (I believe it was Otford), is literally a platform in the middle of freakin' nowhere. Really. It's just... a platform. And a lot of bush.
It was ten o'clock at night.
It took her half an hour to walk to the nearest house and knock on the door, waking up the occupants and begging to use their phone so she could call her parents. Luckily they let her and my grandfather had to drive over an hour to come and pick her up.
I get that she sucked for not having a ticket, but FFS Cityrail or whatever it is you were called then! Fourteen year olds shouldn't be booted onto deserted country platforms in the middle of the night with no way of contacting home!
Yes, my grandfather raised merry hell with that one and complained all over the place. Go him.