Chivalry may be dead, etiquette out the window, and marriage a thing of the past, but I believe that order can and should be restored to a New York City staple; the subway. I have thought long and hard about what irritates me day-in-and-day-out about my commute and have pinpointed some common mishaps that could be prevented by the establishment of several "laws" of subway riding. The NYPD would be able to enforce these laws much in the way they do traffic laws, leash laws, and noise laws, by giving tickets to offenders and making the city millions without having to hike the subway fare for average law abiding straphangers.

People should be ticketed for:
1. Feeling as though they are entitled to a standing ovation when they reach the top of a subway staircase. Yes, after hiking up two flights of stairs in 98 degree heat it does feel good to stop and catch your breath, but one must also realize that the twenty people walking up the stairs behind you may actually still have enough energy to move forth to the end of the platform so as to get into a less crowded subway car as the train barrels into the station. This would be the equivalent of someone speeding onto the entrance ramp of a highway just to stop at the merge point and change the radio station or turn up the air conditioning. For that they would get a traffic ticket because it would potentially cause an accident. Why is "pedestrianism" any different? Now this law may seem unfair to older subway passengers, but I am not insisting passengers must hit the last stair running, just a common step to the side courtesy would be sufficient.

2. Being a make-out couple or proud parent during rush hour. You know who they are and you curse them everyday. Those who, at 8am or 5pm, decide that now would be the perfect time to walk side by side making out the entire way down the staircase and stopping on every other stair to gaze into each other's eyes. I'm happy they found each other, I'll even give a large gift at the wedding if only they would walk single file down the stairs so that I, and every other irate passenger who is capable of walking faster, can pass them and make my subway transfer in a timely manner. Similar to this is the proud parent who thinks it is "cute" that little Johnny or Janey can now take their first steps and want to show the world during rush hour that aforementioned child can toddles down every step as mommy holds their hand now taking up both sides of the staircase. I'm glad your child can walk, and glad you are teaching them early about moving swiftly down the stairs, however, can you WAIT until the large stream of people that have just exited the train pass before beginning your little experiment?

3. An inability to correctly operate an umbrella after using one for 25 years. Two planes hit the World Trade Center, and after only a few days the city was up and running to the best of its ability. It has been raining since the dawn of time, yet New Yorkers are crippled at the first sign of a few drops of water. While I would love to recommend the banning of umbrellas in New York City (I find them to be far more deadly than cigarettes.) I understand that many people do not appreciate the LL Bean raincoat as much as I do. I also understand that for some odd reason "dress" raincoats don't even come equipped with hoods! Therefore, I propose that those caught with inappropriate umbrella usage be forced into a remedial class, much like a defensive driving course, before they can legally carry an umbrella. Emerging out of the Fulton street station on a rainy day is always deadly. The narrow passageways and staircases are bad enough on a good day, add to that suit-clad businessmen afraid of melting in the rain who attempt to open their umbrella before reaching the street level, those who halt at the top to release their shield, or those who enter by shaking the wet umbrella and spraying everyone around them. And you really do wish they would melt.

4. Those who think "move to the center of the car" applies to everyone but them. Nearly every subway conductor and recorded station message shouts "please move to the center of the car" when passengers enter the trains. In theory, this would help reduce the number of rides the average passenger would have to complete with their face pressed up against someone's armpit, or smushed against the glass so that their face now resembles a Picasso painting. However, many subway riders will sprint onto the subway, yet stop the second they enter the car assuming "they made it" and not realizing those behind them are now being yelled at by the conductor "get in or get out" because there is no room for them. Meanwhile that poor passenger watches the train pull away with Kerri Strug doing back handsprings in the middle of the car while 25 people crowd into a two inch space by the door for some unknown reason.

5. Men, women, and children over 6 feet tall who hog the pole. I am a small person. I can reach the astronomically high bar to stable myself if completely necessary, however after a 15 minute subway ride I no longer have feeling in my arm, and I soon realize my feet haven't been on the ground since 14th Street. Therefore, I usually try to get to one of several poles or low handles where I can comfortably balance during my ride. I, and other short people are very aware of this and always look out for our "kind" to share with them a bit of the pole. Invariably I will watch a 6'6" man who has to DUCK to get in the subway doors run over to the pole and wrap his body around it as if he was either going to try out for the Fire Department or become a new performer at "Show World" in times square. Because I have no authority to arrest such people, I pretend I am Lyndsey Wagner in the bionic woman and attempt to burn a hole through them with my laser eyes. This never usually works because I lose concentration midway through as I realize my arm has just gone numb from swinging on the impossible to reach "straps." Tall people, tourists, lazy bums, feel free to grab onto the pole, but realize you don't have to hug it as if it you are saying goodbye to a long lost love at the airport. One hand on the pole, and share!

Jen LiMarzi is an associate editor for a medical trade publication. She lives in Sunnyside, NY, with her dog Guinness,where she is an avid rider of the #7 train.