“The subway is for getting you to where you want to go. It is not for…Fighting. Eating. Talking on your cell phone loudly so everyone knows your husband or boyfriend or wife or girlfriend or whatever-person is a real jerk, and, frankly, so are you. Making death threats. Selling things. Buying things. Stealing things. Licking your own shoes. Licking anything. Clipping your fingernails, or any nails. Breaking up. Weeping noisily and excessively in the hopes of being comforted by strangers. Vomiting (we know, sometimes this cannot be helped). Engaging in any sort of personal grooming or hygienic maintenance. Making friends. Losing your baby. Yelling. Singing. Pretending you are in your own apartment. Sighing loudly, frequently. Muttering. Being naked. Being scary. Blasting your music so loudly that everyone else is fully aware of how cool/horrible/displeasing you are. Exercising. Pretending the subway pole is a stripper pole. Having a party. Making a mess. Making an impact on society. Making a scene. Changing anybody’s mind. Voting. Lecturing. Blocking people with your bike. Showing off your relationship with your pet rat. Sitting on another person. Sitting on the floor. Moving to another apartment. Traveling with anything more than one large suitcase, or a small tree. Being an alarmist. Recapping last night’s episode of The Bachelorette. Learning to drive. Getting everyone else to look at you by doing something transgressive, arty, special, shocking, or stupid, something that you think is really, really cool and different but is really just kind of annoying to all the people who are minding their own business in the hopes of some semblance of peace and quiet until they get off the subway — except for the tourists, to whom it presents a view of the city that they will take back and spew excitedly to their friends, and do you want that?”