This Is Your Stop, Please Get Off

I am guilty of a heinous crime. Yep, I racial profile. Not with respect to renting apartments, I'm not a landlord. Nor do I give out traffic tickets based on race, I'm no cop. If you don't get approved for a loan, don't look at me, I'm not a banker. Want a job? I'm not the man to talk to. But I do ride the subway and there's nothing more frustrating than watching people who should be getting off at a particular stop, stay seated. I don't profile with malice, I just want a damn seat during rush hour. In the good old days, I could stand near some Asian folks as the train approached Grand Street, 7 times out of 10, Big D was sitting down. Black folks on the downtown Lexington Ave. line tended to switch for the A line at Fulton, bingo. The Russians and Jews weren't getting off until Stillwell Ave. so there was no point waiting near them - thankfully I don't live that far out. One way or the other, race and train stops had a nice correlation vis a vis me getting a seat. It's not so simple anymore. White folks live in Harlem, Boricuas now live in the Poconos - Williamsburg having gotten too expensive, Lesbians pass right by Park Slope on their way to Windsor Terrace, and tourists now include Brooklyn on their itineraries. WTF? And on those rare occasions that I do get a seat, wouldn't you know it but some pregnant woman boards the train right near where I'm sitting. Eyes immediately start scanning around the train until they find what they're looking for; me, the token Latino whom everyone knows is genetically compelled to offer his seat to pregnant women. Coño.