Musical chairs.

Where to sit on the subway in new york can be tricky. The ideal seat is usually the one that is at an end, so that you only have to share one side of yourself with another person. (God forbid you are touching someone!) In the wintertime, especially on a train that spends a lot of time overground like the J or the 7, you might be better off sitting in the middle because end seats are near the door and when the door opens, you get a blast of chill air. On older-style trains that have only benches against the sides, there is the long row in the middle, and the smaller two-seaters at both ends. These "love benches" are great for lovers, and slightly odd for strangers, and a little too small for two people. I think they should be reserved for fat people. (Incidentally, these are the best seats to sit in if you want to eat food. But I don't recommend eating because you'll feel guilty when a homeless man wanders past.) On newer trains that have actual seats and are arranged with right angles in them, the seat against the window is the best one to sit in if you want to take a nap because you can rest your head on the window but is hardest to extricate yourself from so it's best for long rides. It is also not ideal for tall people because it has the least amount of legroom. For them I recommend the seat next to it, which has the easiest access in and out of, and is also best for OCD types because you can "sit" on this seat while using the smallest amount of your ass.

Leaning against the door on the side that opens less frequently for stops is the best place to stand if you prefer to, but it is also the hardest from which to get a seat if you are hoping for one.

If you see an old lady eyeing a seat, let her through because she's going to beat you there anyway; they are somehow the most aggressive demographic on trains.

The Most Pleasant People

Here is my latest sweeping generality based on absolutely no fact or experimentation or study: The most pleasant people to be around are the above-average looking. I am going to broadly divide the population into four aesthetic groups: the ugly, the below-average, the above-average, and the beautiful. Interestingly, there are no average people. This is because no one is actually average. The beautiful are snotty and stuckup. The uglies are bitter. The below-average and above-average are mostly interchangeable, but I'll take the above-average because they're easier on the eyes.

Fun With Etymology

Due to my nerdy nature, I find much amusement in certain words. One of my favorites is moxie because it sounds good, has good meaning, and especially because it is named after the supposed oldest continuously produced soda. Last summer, I attempted to acquire a taste for it just so I could drink it whenever I felt low on moxie, like a superhero drinking superjuice, but even after dozens of cans, it was still foul-tastingly medicinal. In fact, it was marketed as a panacea of sorts back when carbonated beverages were still called "elixirs."

Another kind of word I really like is one that seems vague but is actually very exactly defined. A dash, for example, as in a dash of salt, is an eighth of a teaspoon. A jiffy is a hundredth of a second. I don't know any more but I would guess that these precise amounts were given after the fact. I bet a foot wasn't always 12 inches, a cup wasn't always 8 ounces, and a penis wasn't always 6.1 inches.

In the interest of my current boredom, I have decided to start giving arbitrary but exact measurements for vague terms. I therefore declare a trot to be 6 miles per hour, tone-deaf to be someone whose pitch is at least a half-tone off, an inkling to be a quarter of an ink, a glance to be a half-second look, and a mouthful to be a cylindrical form of 4.8 inches in circumference and 6.1 inches in length.