Everyone pays $2.75 to ride the subway, but some of us decide we're entitled to a first class upgrade. Subway seats might be blanketed in skin and filth and weaponized chlamydia, but is that any reason not to cuddle up in the corner with a good book like it's a plushy seat in a bay window overlooking the countryside? Why read with your feet on the ground when you can read with them planted on a seat, smearing the bottoms of your shoes on the very place someone will go on to put their pants a few minutes later? Why don't you just move in?

(Jen Chung/Gothamist)

Good, great. Make yourself at home. All you need now is a cold one.