Back in Black

There is something slightly disquieting about riding the train to work the morning after taking a long weekend. Aside from the fact that you are returning to the cubicle after a four day leave of replenishing your sleep supply, you also have to face the rest of the working slobs.

While there is a sense of camaraderie on that train ride, it is blaringly immediate as to who had a vacation and who didn’t. Those who did (and I fall into this category), look rejuvenated, ready for a new day, a new season, a new challenge, and those who didn’t, just look pissed off. Like wolves, the non-vacationers can spot the vacationers and so you (the rested) have to try, at all costs, to avoid their stares of guilt-ridden bullets.

One tell tale give away is in the eyes. I’m talking about under eye circles. From what I have gathered, you are not a New Yorker until you acquire a set of permanent grey circles that fall a quarter of an inch under your pupils. Because all New Yorkers have these circles, it’s the one constant in fashion no matter the season. I lost mine sometime between last Thursday and Monday and I expect them to make their reappearance sometime between this Thursday and Monday.