Yesterday my girlfriend and I were leaving Gamla Stan and were going up the stairs to the Tbana track just as a train to Ropsten was approaching.
I was certain we could catch the train, she wasn’t, but we still hustled, me leading the way while she carried her bag on wheels full of Swedish books.
I managed to get on the train with her just behind me when the bell sounded indicating that the doors were closing: with her still on the platform. A second later the doors opened to let her on. We waved to the train operator because that was so nice.
Nice things happen to me in Sweden.