This morning, I joined the list of those I typically make fun of–the commuters who’ve forgotten their new passes on the first workday of the month. Indeed, the January pass, ensconced in a handsome Mail N Ride envelope, is sitting on the kitchen counter with the frightful Con Ed bill and even more frightful late Christmas photo card from…well, it doesn’t matter who it is.
It dawned on me soon as the man in blue descended upon me on the 8:43 out of Hawthorne. I explained the sitch and he said my December pass would cover me. He asked if I had any MetroCard value on the back. When I told him I didn’t, he stamped the thing and started to walk away. I asked if I could use the pass for my return trip this evening, but he said it was good for just one ride.
So I was dealt one self inflicted blast of indignity today, and will suffer another–waiting on the endless Grand Central ticket line with the rest of the delinquents–if I fail to buy my return ticket before hitting GCT this evening.