I'm easy to spot on the train each morning. I'm the unfortunate commuter sitting next to the pile of dog poop. Or vomit. Or the overturned cup of java. You see, thanks to the magic of life-like props readily available at any novelty store, I sit alone. And that means one less person to compete with my elbow. One less person talking until they're Blue in the Tooth. One less person to take away my sanity. I simply shrug my shoulders when people examine the soiled seat next to me. "What can you do?" I say in my best Empire State accent. Oh, I suppose they'll eventually catch on. I mean, how many unfortunate things can happen to just one person, right? But who knows. Maybe next week, I'll be surprised to see hundreds of smiling, contented, supremely relaxed commuters sitting next to their very own pools of rubber vomit.
