I know everyone bitches about this sort of stuff . . . so why should I be any different. I'm on my way into work this morning, late as usual, and I cross 96th to take the stairs into the subway. So there's this 20-something, hippy-wiccan idiot standing on the stairs having an argument with her boyfriend who is standing above her on the other side of the rail. On her left, blocking the rest of the stairwell, is a father and mother deciding if they are going to take the baby out of the stroller or just carry the whole thing down. Meanwhile, there are about 8 of us behind them waiting to go down the stairs.

Now, I feel for the parents because I can only imagine how difficult it is to get around with a kid in this city. But even so, unless this was their first time in New York or using the subway, they should have known that you make the decision about how to go down the stairs before you are actually standing at the stairwell.

Hippy chick . . . I had no sympathy for.

So what did I do? Like any good New Yorker, I gave the kid (and his parents) the benefit of the doubt, shoved the hippy chick into the wall (basically rucking over her like a good little rugger) and said "excuse me" with a little smile on my face.

The great thing . . . the rest of the people behind me did the exact same thing.

While I'm bitching about that, did you see in the Daily News (not quite a newspaper, not quite a tabloid) about the pregnant girl who got a ticket for sitting on the stairs in a subway station. Were you one of the bleeding hearts who said, "Oh, the poor thing. Those brutes. How could they?" Well, I wasn't.

Her excuse . . . the benches in the station were dirty so she sat on the stairs. I'm sorry, what? The bench was dirty so she sat on the bubble gum encrusted, spit soaked, grimy stairs. Sure.

Nope, I don't buy it.