Pictures Worth A Thousand.
Aside from my myriad of long-lost, kindred-spirit, fellow subway-riding Dave Eggers connoisseurs, I typically find myself even more intrigued by the plethora of strangers who are seemingly engrossed in self-help books, as if their discovery of a lifetime of success, friendship, and wealth depended on their five-stop commute (from Manhattan to Brooklyn), just in time for dinner plans where their wisdom would inevitably be dispersed. As I not-so-secretly strain to glimpse the best-selling titles of their soul-searches, I find myself judging the likelihood that a person like them - with their impeccable posture, crossed legs, and eye flutter - could possibly need advice on such-and-such, while making a futile and tacit attempt to memorize the title. Enjoy!
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