Subways, trains–same same.   Yesterday, a family of a mom and two grown up children sat across from me.  Out came the snacks.  I notice that I am past the point of finding these foods interesting and am now mostly grossed out.  “Please don’t let it be a package of chicken feet,” I think to myself.  It’s not but it’s something unidentifiable from where I sit.  I can tell that it is very dark and chewy and might be some sort of dried fruit, so I go with that.  I look away and try to enjoy the scenery before the subway dives down below ground.  Alas, these three are smackers, ie open-mouth chewers who like to smack their lips with great regularity.  Because there are many vacant seats, I drag my suitcase to the next car and sit again.  One is not always so fortunate.

As we move closer in to…