Salaryman's new tat
Riding the Green Line back to work in the early afternoon, I stood next to a guy in kakhi Dockers and blue dress shirt who was sporting a fresh tattoo--so fresh, it was still in its shrinkwrap. His right sleeve was rolled up, and his (rather hairy) forearm was shaved, and under the protective plastic was a very clear, sharp image (some kind of Japanese fighting-star motif). He was trying not to move his freshly painted arm too much, and as the train pulled into Arlington he was struggling to put his tie back on with one hand.
I thought that was pretty cool--he'd gone out at lunch, got a tattoo, and was now going back to the office to grind away for a few more hours, the aching flesh under his Van Heusen reminding him what a badass he was.