Simple question: Do you give up your seat on the subway to preggos, old people, and folks with various visible ailments, or do you keep your head down and hope that the guy next to you is a better person than you are?
I ask not because I'm curious about the general goodness of your collective hearts, which we've pretty much acknowledged is shoddy at best on good days, but because my sad self is going in for foot surgery on Thursday, I'm scared shitless that I'm going to be spending the next month holding subway poles for dear life. (Here's where I pretend I am laughing about my "oh wouldn't it be hilarious if I needed foot surgery hahahaha" quip from a few months ago, and the part where I would appreciate you keeping your "You'll never get out of Methodist alive!" remarks to yourselves).
Anyway, consider this a personal request from the short girl with the surgical boot and cane: Give me your seat. Seriously. Please. But if I don't see you on the other side of the twilight anesthesia and painkillers, it's been a riot, folks.