I wasn’t reading anything particularly embarassing, it was just my special book for me, and I didn’t want anyone to know about unless they discovered it on their own.
Meh.
If you want to get some funny looks, try sitting down on the train and reading a symphonic score. If that doesn’t work, hum and wave your arms about. For an even better reaction, throw the score to the floor, stare at a random commuter, and shout “Dolce! Dolce!”
When the nice men in white suits drag you away, keep mumbling “Where do they get these amateurs?!?”
It was porn.
Judging by this quote:
I’d assumed it was some sort of self-help book for a rather embarrassing personal issue. So, you’re saying you’d rather not recommend a very good book to others? That’s interesting.
I’ve seen an awful lot of people (including me) reading David McCullough’s biography John Adams on the ferry, as well as Anita Diamante’s The Red Tent, which I have not read. And Harry Potter, of course.
I’m also very curious about what other people are reading, mainly because I’m always looking for something new to read. Of course, if someone approaches me about a book I’m reading, I’m always happy to tell them what I think about it. That even happened a couple times with the book I linked to above… started some very interesting conversations, I can tell you.
My guess is that pizzabrat was reading the Necronomicon.
Man, you guys are way more civilized over there. Here in Atlanta, every goddamn train winds up with at least one homeless person on it, mumbling for money.
I love seeing what other people are reading. It doesn’t mean I’ll actually talk to them, mind you. (I’m shy.) But I love to look at the books other people have.
However, if someone goes out of their way to keep the cover hidden, I certainly wouldn’t ask what the book was. That Wouldn’t Be Polite.
I never finished Lolita, and that was partially because I was 15 or 16 when I started to read it, and I had a very long bus ride to and from my high school. I felt like I was asking for trouble being seen with that book on the bus.
Incidentally, this same bus line went by the local mental hospital, and many outpatients would just ride it around all day because they didn’t have anything else to do.
It didn’t bother me so much, but my wife was plenty embarassed when I picked up “Reefer Madness” at Borders a while back. Especially since the title is in a huge font and positioned vertically on the cover. 
I don’t know how anyone manages to read on a subway or bus or in the car-when I attempt to do so, I get horribly, wretchedly carsick.
The only time I can recall not wanting someone to know what I was reading was when I was on an airplane coast to coast reading Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets.
The homicide detectives use some very black humor to maintain their sanity, and I kept laughing out loud at what I was reading.
People kept glancing over to see what I found so funny, and when they saw the cover they gave me a look that said “Oh god we are trapped on this airplane with a nutjob.”
Funny thing is nobody wanted to ask me about that book.
I bet it was this book 
I remember when we were trying to write updated silly lyrics (to Cole Porter’s “You’re the Top”) for a chorus performance, and I’d sit on the subway mumbling potential lines to myself, and then scribbling furiously. Boy, did people leave me alone then! Having an Invisible Friend isn’t always a bad thing!
I think I’ve seen more lawyers reading briefs on the subway than everything else put together, even the Good Book.
Ah, the sacred works of the four great religions of North America! Or haven’t you seen some of the Potter fan websites? 
When I lived in Arlington, VA and rode the bus and Metro to work everyday I got good at reading standing up with one arm snaked around a pole for support, sometimes hooked a foot also as an anchor. At least of third of people I saw on the Metro were reading usually, especially during the commute home.
Never felt the need to hide what I was reading, but when you bounce between Philip K. Dick novels, Graham Greene, William S. Burroughs, Snowcrash, Blood Meridian and Salvation On Sand Mountain, a nonfiction book about snake handler churches in the South, people don’t bother you too much anyway. Even the co-workers got leery while I was reading the last one.
I still want a copy of I Spit On Your Graves by Boris Vian to read in public when I’m in a “fuck off” kind of mood. Just the title seem to make people look at you funny.
I suppose you could try carrying around a copy of trash like The Turner Diaries, either that or one of those Poor Man’s James Bond-style books or something similar full of dirty tricks and homemade weapons. Then again, living in Patriot Act land might get the feds called after you for reading stuff like that in public even as a joke.
Courtesy of Channel 4’s Black Books website: Printable book covers for concealing your embarassing books when in public.
I find Bastard Squad to be particularly effective.
I was once on an Amtrak, reading Helter Skelter, and a woman decided to intervene. She insisted that if I read that, I would be doomed to be a victim, like the female Family members, and I should put it away right then and read some self-help book or other. Amtrak, for non-US Dopers, is the long-distance train, and I was going across several states, so I didn’t have the option of getting off at an earlier stop or anything.
She kept lecturing me about how I shouldn’t read that (why? It’s mostly about the trial, and I’m actually glad I read it, because it gave me some perspective during the LA court circuses of the '90s), and pretty soon some guy got into the act, trying to knock it out of my hand. Finally, I left the lounge car and went back to my regular seat. Man. (Oh, and FTR, I was 18 and still conditioned to think that no one older than I was could really be rude, no matter how obnoxious their actions.)
Hey, you should try reading this book on the bus… those silly cover artists, what were they thinking?
Somewhat related–once in high school I had some spare time and was reading a borrowed copy of “Why I Am Not A Christian.” Some special ed aide, who was helping my sick art teacher, saw the book and told me, “Oh honey, you need help.” Or something to that effect.
I was too stunned to even know how to respond. What do you even SAY to such a rude comment??
Yes, I went to public school. And this was four years ago, not 1837. To this day, I wish I’d said something. Jesus.