Sometimes I do stuff that’s horrifically embarrassing, only to find out later on that loads of other people do it as well. So I’m going out on a limb here -- when I’m on the subway, I smile at other passengers. I’m not the only one, right? (insert cricket chirps) Damn.

I was born with a chronic facial disorder, according to WebMD, I believe the official medical term is “dumbass grin.” Several concerned passengers have taken the time to tell me smiling at people on the subway could lead to my early death.

Whenever I get a “What in the hell are you smiling at” from a gang member, I don’t avert my eyes and cower. I assert my dominance by saying something like “I think you have really pretty eyes, or where did you get that amazing tattoo of a headless baby being thrown into a medicine cabinet?” And who’d a thunk it? We part the train as friends. I give him an enthusiastic wave goodbye, and he returns the gesture with a cursory motion from his loaded Glock 27.

I know I’ll ever see the day when people are comfortable smiling at each other on subway cars -- unless they build a subway line that takes women to a secret location where they sell Prada wholesale. But I’m grateful for my dumbass grin because is gives away the secret that deep down inside, I’m an annoyingly happy person. Even though I’m risking life and limb, occasionally someone will smile back. And then I get to tell them, “wipe that dumbass grin off your face, do want to get killed or something?!”

That's why I’m grateful for my dumbass grin.