How pressed for time are you really when you feel compelled to clip your fingernails on the subway?

Of course the real question here is about luck, bad luck mainly and the law of probability and how after a long day back at the office that nice gentleman had to sit down next to me (how lucky I thought I was to score a seat during rush hour!) and after taking a deep breath he pulled out the clippers and started snap snap snapping away.

Little bits were flying everywhere, and as we all looked on in disbelief I sat for a while contemplating my options:

sore feet (new shoes I can’t afford) and a seat where I can comfortably read my book
or
stand safely outside the nail-fly-zone.

Where else is one forced to make such decisions on their journey home?

It didn’t take me long. I was up and away just before he started to remove his shoes.