Ticket Refund

Tonight, in the bit of time between working and the start of a holiday party, I ventured to Grand Central to accomplish an errand I've been meaning to do for weeks.
 
Take pictures of the concourse? No. Buy a train-related item as a holiday gift? Not that either. I was returning the remainder of my Stamford train ticket.
 
For the first few weeks I worked in Stamford, I bought my train tickets daily. After all, who knew how long the venture would last? Then, for a few months, when I made the journey daily, I joined the ranks of the monthly pass folks, flashing my color-coded card for the conductor each day. It saved me both a chunk of money and the time of buying a ticket in the early morning hours. And it made the gig feel somehow permanent. But when, in July, it became clear that the daily nature of the job was evaporating, I switched from a monthly (only worth it if you are going almost every day in a month) to a ten-trip, usable for up to six months.
 
I never finished that ten-trip. The days became fewer, and then over, and, while I held on to the ticket, thinking I might return to Stamford, eventually that door closed.
 
Last night, the woman at the ticket window asked me if I knew there was a ten dollar fee to get a refund for my ticket. "Better something than nothing," I replied. The ticket is just a worthless piece of paper to me now, one extra thing to carry in my wallet. So I turned in my completed claim form, and she gave me my copy. I will receive my money (minus the ten dollar fee) by mail.
 
A ticket refund, and the end of a chapter.