"Some days, for some reason – maybe it's the full moon – we just get it constantly all day," he says, standing at the Bourke and William streets tram stop during his shift. Travellers can also come up with creative excuses for their lack of a myki card. Someone once told Mr Jandula a pigeon had flown down and stolen their myki while they were waiting in Federation Square. Another swore the myki had been swallowed by the tram when they touched on. So why on earth would anyone want to do this job? Mr Jandula, 36, was a secondary school teacher in country Victoria before leaving the job four years ago. His father-in-law, also an authorised officer, would come home with weird and wonderful tram stories. "It seemed really, really interesting," says Mr Jandula. "And I knew it was a very stable and secure job.

"I came on board knowing that we were going to cop a lot of flak and people don't like us a lot, but basically I take in my stride." He says he wants to change what people think of him: that he's there not to hand out fines all the time, but to give people a chance to explain or to help them when he can.

Credit:Eddie Jim While on duty, he has spoken to women fleeing domestic violence who didn't have the chance to grab their wallets or phones. Mr Jandula found a five-year-old boy sitting by himself one day. He had travelled eight kilometres alone on the tram. Realising the boy had severe autism, Mr Jandula took a book out of his bag and started reading to him while police found his mother.

"It's just like a school teacher: sometimes we have to wear the shoes of a therapist, a mediator for people from all walks of life," he says. Mr Jandula's optimism seems unshakeable amid the hostility he often faces. "You have to sit there and think that a lot of the time it's the uniform; it's not us. And you try to not take it personally." To those who call him a dog, he says: "A dog is a man's best friend." And to "How do you sleep at night?" he says, "If I don't have coffee after 3 o'clock, I sleep pretty good." He also has a neat way of thinking about the increasing number of passengers who take his photo on their phones: "We're more famous than the Kardashians." Once when a woman was taking his picture, he offered to pose for a selfie.

As he prepares to get on with the rest of his shift, he has a parting remark. "I hope today is going to be a really nice day. If not, you have to keep smiling."