Just a few days after spying a rider staring longingly at a 7 of diamonds playing card from a nudie deck, I happened to spot a little cheesecake starring a member of the opposite sex this morning.

I was on the 8:43 to the city and was lucky enough to score my own 1-3/4 seater–the set-apart, ultra private folding seat across from the conductor’s booth (by the way, these special seats are harder and harder to come by, as many conductors opt to lock them in the upright position).

Somewhere between the Bronx and 125th, the conductor’s door flew open. Taped inside the door was a photo or cutout of an attractive blonde teen. Unlike the seductively poised gent in the deck of cards last Thursday, the girl at least was clothed. She was a Hannah Montana-esque lass in a snug tank top. Maybe it was some conductor’s daughter, or girlfriend, or mistress, or friend with benefits–or just some hottie clipped from the Kohl’s catalog.

It’s nice to see a little spice on the ol’ commuter train.