Or, you could just take the Queen East streetcar.

Asian woman, early 40s, bundled tight in a long all-weather coat, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, sandwiched between a young couple who'd clearly wished they could sit together. She's in the window seat, her arm slung behind the reader, prodding the hand of the boy who stands in the aisle unsure of how committed he wants to be to her advances, what with it being rush hour and all.

How To Win Friends and Influence People, Dale Carnegie (Simon and Schuster)

About two-thirds in:

So, by apologizing and sympathizing with her point of view, I got her apologizing and sympathizing with my point of view. I had the satisfaction of controlling my temper, the satisfaction of returning kindness for an insult. I got infinitely more real fun out of making her like me than I could ever have gotten out of telling her to go and take a jump in the Schuylkill River.

Approaching Yonge, people started to rush the back door. A fellow, late 30s with close cropped graying hair, a cord jacket and Levis jeans, swung from the pole, steadying his weight off the back stairs so the door could close. A woman, in her early 30s, blushed. He was standing far too close, his pelvis inches from hers, his celebrity white grin slowly opening into an apologetic smirk. She wiped her nose, raw from this cold that's going around, and exposed her crooked front tooth. "It's okay." They rocked a few stops, their jaws aligned, their breath a cocktail of too much coffee and watermelon lip balm. Between Jarvis and Parliament they acquired two young children, a miniature Dachshund with an eye infection and and argument over his stinky hockey bag in the hall.