Add signs reminding passengers to socially distance while every square inch of their bodies is pressed up against each other in a sweltering metal box.
Encourage buskers to pivot to at-home performances on Instagram Live.
Use this opportunity to finally implement the suggestion I’ve been emailing them about for years and introduce the MetroCard Platinum Rewards Program™, which for a mere additional 50¢ per ride would grant members exclusive access to an empty train car and hot towel.
Eliminate the Kissin’ Car.
Introduce a hands-free method of hopping the turnstiles.
Have the employee in the kiosk compliment my quarantine beard and I’ll be too flustered to care about things like germs.
Make instructional videos on how to keep your balance without having to hold onto the poles—not that I need them, I’m a real New Yorker.
Require all riders to provide proof of a negative coronavirus test upon entry, or just ask if they think they’re immune now because that runny nose in March was probably it.
Either hand out Purell at every stop or offer free snacks. (I like coffee ice cream.)
Make frequent PA announcements reminding me not to lick the poles.
Develop body scan technology that can instantly tell if someone is carrying the disease, but only if they promise to destroy such a powerful weapon as soon as the pandemic passes.
Regularly wipe down the MetroCard self-service kiosks so they’re safe to use before finding out they’re out of service.
Have the MTA chairman check out my friend Seth’s Facebook post that maps out his vision for a safer transit system. It’s quite good and Seth has a lot of interesting ideas. I’m not sure if all of Seth’s thoughts would be feasible in practice, but it’s definitely worth the read.
Place mannequins on every other seat to ensure people don’t sit next to each other while also giving me something to cuddle if it’s been one of those days.
Make Mayor de Blasio ride the Downtown 1 train for a photo op to prove that the subway is safe again and never let him leave just to really drive the point home.
Cover the seats with the thinnest paper imaginable like a doctor’s examination table, which apparently is enough to stop germs from spreading.
Put out an emotional video about how New York is back—or better yet, how it never left. Goosebumps.
Throw out each train after using it.
Only permit riders to remove their facemasks to kiss their true loves goodbye one last time before the doors close.
Donate to help find a cure, or at least to find out what that liquid that dripped on my head in the Hoyt-Schermerhorn Station was.
Put a giant mask on the front of the first subway car to prevent the spread of germs between passing trains. Even if it’s not effective, it would still be very cute.