I'm not exactly sure how to put this, but here goes... I felt a young lady's bum on the train.
No, no, no, wait! Wait - come back! I wasn't doing anything untoward! Let's put that another way. Okay, okay... let's see. Okay, my bum was pressed against her bum and...
No! Hang on, there's got to be a better way to put that! Okay, okay. You know the Japanese soft porn film Tandem? Well, it was a bit like... oh, you don't know it? Well, that's hardly my fault. It was on Channel 4 about ten years ago; you should have watched it. So how do I explain this?
I was on the Central Line, making my way back home from work, when the train stopped at Bank. This is a major interchange for lots of commuters, and I was already on the train (which was full of people, as most of the world seemed to be intent upon getting on earlier at Chancery Lane), in my usual position standing erect with my rucksack clasped tightly between my legs... which isn't as sexy as I just made it sound. It was incredibly hot (again, not sexy), but thankfully I was only wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so I didn't have too many problems. The businessmen in suits were amusingly sweltering, though.
It was only when the tube train stopped in the middle of a tunnel that I realised my back and my bum were pressed against a distinctly female back and bum as well. This wasn't deliberate, nor was it even too noticeable until we stopped - this poor girl must have got on at Bank and now she was squashed between me and the door to the next carriage, and evidently couldn't move. I was squashed between her and the big sweaty man right in front of me.
Which put me in the very difficult position of deciding what the hell to do. There wasn't any position to relax into. I didn't want to lean backwards, otherwise it could be construed as intentional frotteurism, similar to the chikan present in Tandem, only with a backside rather than a hand in the schoolgirl panties... and also I wasn't turned on. I mean, I'd be quite offended if it was me. But it's not like I could have done anything about it. I didn't want to lean forwards, as I'd instantly be pressing my moobs into the back of the big sweaty man, and that might have ended my life prematurely. But there was no space to turn around - we were packed together like the heretics burned in tombs in Dante's Inferno.
So I did nothing. I just stood there like a lemon. I was physically unable to do anything about it, but the more I tried not to think about it, the more I became aware of this girl's derrière fighting with mine for space. What did she look like? Was she, too, stuck in the same position? Was she enjoying it? I was certainly uncomfortable, but was she? Could she move, and if so, why not? If not, I'm really sorry, girl, I really am! I'm taking up as little space as possible - I'm sorry my arse is huge!
The train screeched to a halt at Liverpool Street and the doors opened. With a noise akin to a pop, several people were ejected involuntarily from the train door, and a massive throng swept its way out onto the platform, with a rush of very cooling, very welcome air. And, thankfully, I was in this difficult position no more. I adjusted myself to the idea of being in space to move without human flesh surrounding me at three hundred and sixty degrees.
The girl glanced at me for the briefest of seconds, then scuttled away. And I breathed a sigh of relief.