Tales of the streetcar, part 1

The other day it (the streetcar) arrived unusually quickly, by which I mean it was going so fast that it was inconceivable to me how it could come to a stop on our stop. As it turned out, it stopped, but about ten meters further up the track than it was supposed to. Us weary commuters had to shuffle over with all our packs burdening us down. As we went around the turn, the driver warned all the people that were standing to hold on really tight. He proceeded to take the curve so sharply that it brought a smile to my face, it was so ridiculous. As we descended a hill, it was very much remniscent of a roller coaster. I am not exaggerating this in the least. I think thge reason he was going so fast had to do with the man up front holding a large bouquet of flowers. As we reached the subway stop, the driver said that he had two minutes to catch the subway. I suppose one could extrapolate a reasonable account of that back-story, and the ensuing gripping tale of love and betrayal, of frustration by public transit and the triumph of the human spirit over tunnels and iron and crowds and impersonal train schedules, but I will not. Probably because it didn't happen.

Consider: "everyione takes it as axiomatic that A is A. But what is not so obvious is how we determine that A is.