Thursday, September 3, 2009

A Little Subway Sustenance

I've always found in fascinating to people watch on the subway. Not because the old man picking his nose and wiping it on the window is, in fact, compelling, but because it's the only place I regularly see people reading.

I like to count how many people in the train car have their noses in books. I sometimes count the number of people listening to iPods (strangely, this number seems to never exceed 15, no matter how packed the car is), but let's face it, books are just more interesting. You can tell a lot about a person by what they're reading. I love to sneak a peak at people as they turn the pages and try to catch a glimpse of the front cover or the running heads to see what they're reading. I've seen some strange and different things (i.e. a very confident young woman was once reading a very blatantly erotic novel next to me on the train, not thinking anything of it. It was uncomfortable and refreshing at the same time).

The City Room, a blog on wrote a little post about this very topic--you can read it HERE.

For a while there, I stopped reading on the train myself, because my commute too and from work was just too short to really make progress. At least that's how I justified it; really, I was just being lazy. I started up again, no matter how short my train ride is, and I'm just powering through book after book. I'm loving it.

This morning I finished Jennifer Weiner's Good in Bed, a chick lit favorite of my friend LG. It was every bit as wonderful as she'd described. A highly recommended read.

Of course, now I have nothing for the ride home....

What are YOU reading? Let us know!

1 comment:

  1. It's hard for me to read on the way into work too. My commute is all standing and consists of going three stops, transferring and then going four more stops, so any reading I get in is sure to be minimal.

    However, when I'm in the middle of a really good book, I'll start reading it when I leave my apt, read it while walking to the subway, read it on the platform, read it while surfing the rails on my subway-shaped surfboard, and hopefully get in a chapter or two before I get out at Grand Central Station and all hell breaks loose. From there I have to put the book away and just concentrate on walking and weaving. You have to have your wits about you in that place or you'll get mowed down by an old granny with a walker, some false teeth and a plan of attack.