The tube is packed and gross, sweaty armpits and angry frowns lean against unmentionable parts of your body. You leave the tube with a fluster and flurry. Caked in stress and dirt from other people’s mornings.
You cannot find your Oyster card. You are thrown against the barrier whilst people show off who can.
You find it, hurrah! A familiar purple tube taps your finger. You leave the station and the sunlight bathes your face. You add a dab of Pink Raspberry and for a moment you feel slightly better about parading into an unfamiliar office with venomous suits offering you water and sharpening their fangs.