Chivalry is hard to come by, but, surprisingly, not in New York City. Yesterday, a man on the subway noticed that I was uncomfortable holding the handle near the ceiling since I am so short, so he offered me his seat. I told him no, and that I was fine, but he insisted, so I took it even though I was only going one more stop. Today the guy who hands out newspapers at the top of the stairs at the 14th street subway exit told me I was beautiful, he also always thanks me for saying "no, thank you" instead of blasting past him like a jerk.
Of course, there are the people who have to stand with their bodies pressed against you as you wait in line to get on the train to Jersey, because obviously you're going to get their faster if your tits are pressed into my back and your umbrella is jabbing my side. Oh, and when you do that, I tend to walk a little slower than everyone else... Perhaps that's not chivalrous of me at all, but it's ok, I will get over it.