Some weeks ago I was in DC for the Marine Corps Marathon.
My dear friend Ennairda and I were hustling around on the Metro system with two tiny tots, a fistful of fancy mylar balloons and all the other tot-toting paraphernalia that goes along on these kinds of trips.
As you may know, the Metro system requires an advanced degree in quantum mathematics to even begin to comprehend. DC is a very smart town.
So we just stuffed some money into the machine and hoped for the best. We took various Metro rides, converted our two cards into three, tried not to get crushed in Rosslyn and eventually made our way back out to Baltimore after the race.
As Ennairda and her race-fatigued hubby packed themselves back into the minivan, I went about seeing if I could redeem our tickets. Why not right?
It turned out that we had about $15 smackaroos left. Which to me means either one round trip on the Metro during peak hours, or 48 trips between Foggy Bottom and Farragut West. I really do not understand the Metro pricing at all.
However, the very nice Metro guy helpfully explained to me that I was actually entitled to a refund.
Really? Are you kidding? Does my expression of wonderment further reinforce the Masshole stereotype?
Yep, turns out that you just have to stick your partially used tickets in this special envelope, give it back to the nice Metro employee (or mail it) and expect a check to follow within the next few weeks.
I know this is true because I just got the refund check in the mail!
Goes to show what a little cheapskateness and a little curiosity can get you. Not killed like the cat, that's for sure!
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