4) Pole huggers are the true vermin of the subway
Hah, you thought it was the rats? Nope! The real disease bags in question are the thoughtless louts who insist on utilizing one single, metal pole — brilliantly invented and placed so that several people at once (imagine!) can hold on as the T careens at back-breaking speed around Packard’s Corner — for themselves. These selfish bastards embrace the pole, then splay their entire torso across it to better balance themselves while they chat aimlessly on their cell phones, oblivious to the needs of others. What is the best way to deal with such egotistical pests? Despite their rudeness, avoid passive-aggressiveness and be patient, loving, and polite to a fault (e.g., “Pardon me, shithead, but is my desire to live past Science Park getting in the way of your leisurely pursuits? Sorry, but would you mind terribly if I clung to an inch of this stupid metal stick so as not to die on this heaving box on wheels? Thanks!”).

5) OMFG! The T isn’t a gossip blog
You might be proud of the fact that you totally hooked up with a Nate Archibald look-alike who bought you booze, read Pushkin to you by candlelight, and painted a mixed-media portrait of you over the weekend, but the rest of us don’t want to know about it. At least keep it down — we can hear you well enough without you shouting about it over the blaring announcements that we’re arriving at Copley.

6) Extended one-sided staring contests + vaguely “accidental” brush-ups = douchebag
We don’t know what you do behind closed doors, and we sure as hell can’t control it. On the T, however, which requires people unfamiliar with each other to be tightly packed in an enclosed space together, it’s never, ever acceptable to “borrow” someone else’s body for your own perverse use. Look, we know: this is a college town. The people are beautiful. But that doesn’t mean they can deal with being treated like herded hottie cattle simply for you to bump and grind your uglies against. Remember: groping should be a mutual pastime.

7) Even seat vultures must cede to a Higher Power
You’re tired. You’re carrying 17 bags, the weight of which has made your fingers almost permanently gnarled. You’ve waited 20 minutes for the train to arrive, and you hate the world, your life, and everyone around you. You’re about to miss the first 10 minutes of A Shot at Love II because you forgot to set your DVR. We empathize with you, we do, oh, we do! But even in such desperate situations as these, propriety dictates that, when a seat opens up, instead of swooping to fill it, you relinquish it, if necessary, to a mom-to-be, a senior citizen, or a disabled person. If you do, you might still be exhausted and grumpy, but you’ll be a nice person. If you don’t, you’re just a loathsome toad. And instead of it being you against the world, the world will be against you. Indeed, yes. (Note: we are very close peripheral acquaintances with people who think they know a guy who has the power to potentially make you sorry for such behavior. Trust.)