"AMID CONCRETE AND CLAY"

An unfortunately combination of that wreck from Pittsburgh last year, and generally just not being sedentary, has led to some shenanigans with my hip. Fret not, it'll pass, it'll pass. But, say I used a crutch thing and got on the train and clearly was having some sort of issue with my hip or leg or something.

You'd get up and offer me your seat right? Of course you would, because you, my readers dear, are well-mannered, unlike those complete savages with whom I have been riding the train. I promise you, it's an odd thing.

Maybe I am just old-fashioned when it comes to that sort of thing, but I generally pop up out of my seat on a train or bus at the slightest sign on need.

Now, there is one notable exception: Lately, it's been rather fashionable to wear blouses which are pleated just across the boobage area, and therefore, for the life of me, I cannot, cannot, cannot tell sometimes whether or not certain women are pregnant, slouching, or just wearing ill-advised tops. And far be it from me to guess when it comes to that. Can you imagine?