When integrity pays, it's in cash.

  The older I get, the more I realize that in the real world, it isn't convenient to do the right thing. I've coined the phrase, "Integrity doesn't pay." Well, I'm not quite sure that I made that up, but this post demonstrates the opposite anyway.
  Tuesday night, I took the bus home from basketball.  I take the bus after basketball because I don't feel like walking the 2 miles home.  Call me a sissy, but I'm tired after basketball, not to mention that I've already walked 5 miles that day (to school and back, then to basketball).
  For this story to make any sense, I will need to explain the bus system here in Dijon.  On the bus there are three doors.  One in the front, one in the middle, and one in the back.  When the bus stops (at a designated bus stop) you have to push the little green button in order for the door to open.  When you get on the bus, you don't necessarily have to buy a ticket from the driver at the front.  There are small orange boxes strategically placed around the bus that allow you to punch your prepaid ticket.  But, many people opt for the monthly pass that allows you to ride any bus in the city as many times as you so desire, no ticket-punching necessary.
   Some of my more astute readers will have realized that one could perhaps get on and ride the bus without paying.  Indeed, it is possible, and I have done it before.   (Once when I forgot to punch my ticket, and once when I forgot the ticket and didn't know how to buy one.  But, later that month I bought a monthly pass anyway.)
  I learned that if one is caught, one pays a fine.  While talking with some of my basketball-playing comrades, I learned the amounts of said fines. (They increase with each offense).   I let everyone know that I paid every time I took the bus.  They weren't super surprised, but I was greeted by responses like "Well, I'll pay when I'm rich, but now..."  One guy told me on the way home that he had already payed the fine twice.  I had thought to myself, "Self, these guys do it all the time and never get caught.  Plus, it's a Tuesday night.  Why would there be a check?" But, as always, I bought a ticket and found my seat.
  When the bus reached my stop, I tried to get off, but the doors wouldn't open, and there were men in black uniforms at each door.  When the doors finally opened, they asked for my ticket, which I showed them, then I headed home without a problem. They were the control officers.  I don't know what happened to the other guy, but it probably involved a hefty fine.

So, sometimes, integrity does pay.  

All the busses in Dijon look like this. 

Photo credits: Google images.