Adventures in reading over people's shoulders: Erotic literature and Bowhunting magazine

Dear Reader,

Rarely is there a morning that the A train doesn't whizz past my rinky-dink C train. The worst is when not one but 2 A trains in a row cut my train off, leaving us in the tunnel waiting. Often this feels like a much larger metaphor for all of the, perceived, injustice in my life. When I don't have a seat (tip of the injustice iceberg) it is worse. When I do have a seat, I can at least read my neighbors' reading material. Every week or so, somebody is reading something racy which is always good fun. But this morning, a man was eagerly reading and rereading his resubscription card to Bowhunting Magazine. He'd better not mess with my cashmere goats!