Act 1: He went to stand between the carriages for a smoke. (It was a Hitachi. Very retro.) It should be pointed out that this doesn’t stop the smoke smell drifting through the carriages, though obviously it’s better than doing it in the carriage. Apart from the fact that smoking anywhere is dangerous for your health, the last time I saw something like this attempted, the half-a-dozen undercover Authorised Officers in the carriage that I had clocked when I boarded the train wasted no time in moving in to fine the person.
Act 2: “Does this train go to Richmond?” Someone pointed out, possibly without trying to smirk, that we’d just a minute ago gone past Richmond. Australia is said to have a 99% literacy rate, and those new signs on the stations are fairly readable, so the chances are this guy had nobody to blame but himself for not paying attention.
Act 3: Upon arrival at the next station, Flinders Street, did he bother to look at the platform display to see where the train would go next? No. I did glance at it. It was headed straight back to Richmond. He instead headed across the concourse to some other platform — I think it may even have been 4+5, one of four platforms where none of the trains departing go to Richmond.