The other evening after pushing my way onto the same train car as always, I hung there on my commuter strap and broke momentarily from my rush hour funk to find my reflection staring back at me from the window. There I stood with my shoulders sagged, my necktie loosened and a work world of fatigue weighing in my eyes -- exactly like the fellows on my either side.
Except for one difference.
"My gosh," I thought. "I'm a 'gaijin'!"