On this the first day back at work for nearly everyone, Jeb Bush has no job. As of noon today, the man has no job.For the rest of us it was back at the bench, the desk, the handles, the grips. Back to work.
For retail and attraction and museum and restaurant workers, there has been no holiday time off. Holiday is time on full throttle. The daze from December 26 through New Year’s is the heaviest turista traffic in the city all year. At other times there are pockets of booms: boomettes. But that week, those seven days, sheets are changed on every hotel bed every day, every plate in town is washed many times a day, and no train or trolley rides without at least half a load. The streets are full, the lines are long. There is the post Christmas migration of snowbirds, and there are the Mid-West and Mid-Atlantic families making a stop off on the way to or from Orlando.
For Cubicle Dwellers, the first day back after the long holiday is like the first long yawn after waking up. The day starts with a deep stare at the desktop and a near audible “Where am I? What is it that I do?” Then snapping back with complete clarity, there is the moment of total recall, then a deep and silent sigh and small shrug.
The turistas have gone and so those who serve them may now relax a bit and the Cubicle Dwellers can once again run errands at lunch without spending the hour break in traffic. For all the locals, the swarm has moved on and the air is a little clearer.
The days following the season, or seasonette, are like the days after the crop is harvested or the catch is delivered at the dock. Much of the heavy lifting is done for a while with the bounty of the work stored safety. Now there is time, albeit brief, to take pleasure in this place by living the life that can only be lived along narrow streets in the village by the sea.
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