Someone offered me their subway seat for the first time this week! I'm 23 weeks pregnant (that's about 5 months, for those of you not immersed in the strange algebra of pregnancy), and I've been waiting eagerly for this day. I credit the improving weather as much as my expanding stomach -- with my coat off, it's quite clear now that I'm pregnant. Of course, what my fellow subway riders choose to do with this information is entirely up to them.
As a newcomer to New York, I'm fascinated by the unwritten etiquette rules of subway behavior. Giving up your seat to a pregnant woman is pretty basic courtesy on any public transportation. Of course, basic courtesy isn't always so basic for a lot of people.
So I've decided to keep a log of who gives up their seat for me, in the hopes of drawing wildly speculative, subjective conclusions from a small sample of data. What's the use of scientific observation if it can't be exploited for cheap dinner party conversation? With that lofty goal in mind, I bring you my subway chronicles.
June 29: 3 train, 72nd St. Black dude in his 20s, dressed in light green maintenance-worker jumpsuit, immediately stands and gestures for me to take his seat. I thank him profusely.
June 30: Very crowded 3 train, 72nd St. White guy in "Assistant To The Regional Manager" outfit keeps reading his US Weekly as I stand in front of him. My pregnant belly pokes into his "Stars: They're Just Like Us!" reading as the train sways. He doesn't look up. Hey, white guy sitting down: Douchebags! They're Just Like You!
July 1: 2 train, 72nd St. Crowded. A black man, probably in his 40s or 50s, wearing a conservative suit, leans over and taps me on the arm to give me his seat. Why thank you sir.
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