Turnstiles

>> The metro's people-processing system

by PHILIP PREVILLE

 February 11, 1999 was the public transit system's busiest day last year. No one knows exactly how many people took the bus: while the day's receipts were sky-high, people are always cheating the fare box by a quarter or so, making it impossible to arrive at a precise tally. Beneath the surface, however, exactly 745,623 people went through the metro's computerized, fraud-proof turnstiles--which, like the trains' rubber tires, are unique in North America.
 
  Magnetic strips: The metro's turnstiles were converted early on to card-swipe technology. Individual metro tickets have a small readable strip; the turnstiles processed over 25 million of them last year. The turnstiles are also programmed to distinguish between monthly cards (2.4 million sold in 1999) and weekly cards (2 million sold); the magnetic strip tells the turnstile when a card has expired.

 The turnstiles are also programmed to remember the exact time when cards were swiped: once you've gone through, your card is useless for the next 30 minutes. This prevents people from going through the turnstile, then passing their card back to their friends. But if you pass through the turnstile, then go back out to buy something at the newsstand, you're stuck waiting for the computer to clear your path.
 
 Bus transfers: The turnstiles also use old-fashioned punch-card technology to read the MUCTC's bus transfers; while bus drivers are easily fooled by the quick flash of a two-year-old transfer, the metro is not. The punch-holes tell the turnstile the exact expiry time on your transfer: if your chit is past due, you won't get through. The metro turnstiles gobble up between 40,000 and 50,000 valid bus transfers every day.
 
 The booth moles: Technophobes and luddites who prefer the face of human interaction can always opt for the booth-controlled turnstile. There, dour and sedentary blue-collar workers will take your twoonie, hand you a ticket, then wait for you to drop your ticket into the fare box before pressing the button that releases the turnstile. Why not just put the money through the slot? "The procedure preve`nts the kind of nickel-and-dime fare fraud that happens every day on the buses," says MUCTC spokesperson Serge Savard (no, not that Serge Savard).

 Regular metro riders are familiar with the "two-minute free-for-all," when the booth moles suddenly disappear from their dwelling and everybody rides for free. "That's not supposed to happen," says Savard. "The only reason the booth is ever empty is when the employees have to go for a tinkle, and they're supposed to lock the turnstile until they get back."

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