Parking Lot

I admit, I gripe a lot about the subway on here.  The subway and I have a love/hate thing going on.  I love the idea of getting in a tunnel and, minutes later, being MILES away.  At it’s best, it is fast, whimsical, orderly, and friendly.  LIKE ME.

At other times, like when you’re trying to get to work on Sunday morning, it can leave you stranded at a stop two and a half miles from your destination from 10:35am – 10:55am.  This is why you always leave an extra half hour early for Sunday commute!

I digress.  The main gripe I have with the subway, dear readers, is with seating.  The MTA has set forth a seat size, and NOBODY abides by it.  This is by far the most irritating part of the morning.  A half-empty train may still have nowhere to sit if everyone is taking up more than their seat-share.

Imagine you arrive at your job in your car, my suburb-dwellers, and see that there are no parking spaces because everyone has parked diagonally, or on the yellow line between spaces, or left all of their doors open into the adjacent spaces.

This man, THIS MAN, deserves to have his photo posted on the internet.  Not only does he take up more than one seat with his gratuitous legspan, but as you can clearly see from observing his crotch for five stops, there is AN EXTRA PANEL OF FABRIC sewn into the crotch of his pants.  WHAT IS THIS FOR?!?  Is there a medical condition I don’t know about that requires extra groin space?  I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, so if he needs the room for medical purposes I will lay off.  But, I SUSPECT, this room is only needed for spreading one’s legs wider on the subway.

New Yorkers:  if you don’t want to be shamed on the Internet, CLOSE YOUR LEGS to shoulder-width apart.

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