For the average London commuter it’s a shared experience – a rite of passage, if you will.
One minute you’re earnestly racing to work with the very best of intentions, the next you’re hemmed into a tube carriage like the proverbial sardine in an overcrowded tin.
If you’re lucky you might happen upon that rarest of sights – an empty seat – but more often than not you’ll be face to grimacing face with the one person who unhelpfully decided to include a generous serving of garlic with last night’s evening meal.
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