The monday following the "spring forward" government enforced routine is always an interesting day. The morning commute in particular stands out as something out of the routine with the subway commute crowd being easily categorized by three camps.
The first being the yawners, a group missing their sleep so desperately they are yawning from Point A to Point B continuously. If this wasn't bad enough, the effect (an issue that scientists have yet to explain properly) is contagious yawing running rampant. You end up with a disconcerting scene; a train full of commuters seemingly impatiently waiting widemouthed for their dental exams.
The second group is the grumps; deeply bitter about being up an hour earlier and choose to take it out on all those they encounter. Someone has taken something from them and they want it back. No amount of caffeine seems to tame their beasts within. Just steer clear.
The final group is the pokeys. My personal favorite and exemplified by the young ladies in my office. This group is habitually late as is and toss in Daylight Saving Time into the equation, they are then thrown into a tailspin. The pokeys are usually characterized by young ladies who barely managed to get out the door and onto the train; but finish up their morning routine onboard. This routine which consists of switching from random, first pair seen, shoes into office heels, to putting on miscellaneous accessories and concluding with the art of applying full makeup on a moving vehicle. (This traveling applying of makeup has always worried me…an unexpected bump or sudden stop on the train and these girls will poke their eyes out.) All primping done in a race against the clock, how much can be done before their train stop.
Experience has taught me to prepare myself for the impending office disaster of late arrivals on the morning after Daylight Savings Time. Today I am well prepared. In fact, I have done extra sets of reps to get my arms nice and prepped. I also worked on my swing yesterday in preparation for this morning.
Why you ask?
As my creative department of young ladies either drag themselves in a disheveled mess 30 minutes late or rush in 90 minutes late, they will all have one thing in common by the end of the day.
What is that you ask?
Not the non-fat lattes half finished before coming into the office.
Not the mismatched shoes or half tucked-in blouses.
They will all have paid a visit to my office where they will have been served a well earned firm reminder to not dare be late tomorrow.
"He is not in a good mood. He bent me over my desk
the minute I walked into the office.
Another reason I hate having a cubicle;
anyone could have seen me!
Now, I don't even want to pull up my pantyhose, or even sit down -
I'm afraid it will hurt too much."
"Sorry hon, but yeah, he spanked me too!
Once for every minute I was late!
I didn't think 30 minutes could feel like forever!
My ass is throbbing.
Jennifer is in there with him now.
Yeah, poor thing I can hear her screaming from way out here!
He is always extra hard on her.
At least we are all in dress code.
Wait till Lesley comes in, she always forgets to wear tights."
"Owww! Owww - it stings!
Yessss... I will set my alarm early!
Owww.....please stop, it hurts so much!
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes Lesley. Hmm, actually I thought we only needed only to
discuss you being 90 minutes late.
However, in your lack of haste to get here on time today,
you also somehow neglected to put on your PANTY–hose.
Fortunately, I have some managerial techniques to share with you
that will undoubtedly help with your overall absentmindedness."
• Who was late this morning?
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