Making Out on Subways

Maybe it’s the onset of sun and warm weather, but I’m seeing an awful lot of this lately. I understand the appeal (obviously), but New York subways aren’t exactly the cleanest locations in the world. Fulton Street, for example, pretty much always smells like either urine, vomit, or a zesty combination of the two. Despite a much cleaner subway system, this never happens in D.C.—or at least I never saw it. What’s to blame? A slightly better developed sense of privacy owing to the lower population density? D.C.’s innate propriety, otherwise known as “I don’t want this to end up as a Roll Call item”-syndrome? Or is New York just better at finding and nurturing lovers? I know D.C. is all button-up and unfun and such, but it’s not like people don’t have sex there.

In other news, the super secretive New York all-girl email list that I am totally convinced exists (they probably have the sort of ID verification that Linden Labs could only dream of) apparently sent out notice that today was Officially Sun Dress Day. Honest to God. It was sunny yesterday, but there were still numerous coats and scarves and boots. And today, bam! Martha Stewart's memo played no part in this. I'm sure of it. No female will admit it, but there is an email list, or a secret message board where someone posts a codeword. Or something. I refuse to believe otherwise.

Dudes, on the other hand, have to resort to things like checking weather.com.