Rush Hour Push
I'm not an overly confrontational person. In fact, my friends would say I prefer to avoid it all together. But nothing makes me to want to scream in a complete strangers face quite like the London commute. But here I am, stood in a tin can with a briefcase wedged in between my arse cheeks and another passengers' delightful morning breath stinging my eyes. I physically growl, clench my fists, grind my teeth and try my very best not to kick the person who is walking so frigging slowly whilst simultaneously trying to read the metro. Is rush hour crush particularly gripping today? But surely winter is better than summer? Reminiscing back to the months when I frequently enjoyed someone's armpit is dripping on my shoulder, whilst trying to unstick myself from my own or a neighbours piece of wet sticky clothing. Or when someone stands on the back of my flip flop every step up the escalator - don't apologise then do it again - ahhh good times. So why do we do it? A...