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Monday 21st July 2003

The couple sitting next to me on the tube platform this evening were snogging so voraciously that I almost got sucked into the midst of their passion (and not in a good way), like a spaceship would get sucked into a vortex in some poorly thought out TV sci-fi drama.
I tried to ignore them, but then the man's arms which were scrabbling round his (presumed) girlfriend's bodily areas, began encroaching on my own body. Just my arm for the moment, but I felt sure if I stayed I would be manhandle further by these people who were blinded to where the other began and ended by the insatiable lust that had driven them to act like dogs in public, in daylight (it was an overground station).
Perhaps this was an unsophisticated attempt to ask me to join in with them, or perhaps the man had become bored by his partner (though I have to say it didn't look like it, though I was trying not to look) and had decided to try and seduce me instead. Possibly freed from his Terminator-like grip the woman would willingly and happily make her escape. She may have been there for days waiting for someone to be foolish enough to sit near them, aware of this man's insatiable lust for anything that was crafted in flesh.
Much as I hate the phrase "Get a room", I was tempted to say it, or at least to ask them to move up the not particularly busy platform to a place where they could (practically) fornicate in ever-so-slightly more private circumstances.
Luckily as the pawing of my arm intensified the train pulled into the station. I got up and moved towards it, but the amorous couple were too engrossed in each other's mouths to move.
They didn't seem interested in getting the train at all. I thought they were being foolhardy.This was afterall what I satirically refer to as the Hammersmith and Shitty line (I thought about calling it the Hammershit and Shitty line, but thought that the power of such satire might destroy the Universe), and so there was a good chance that there wouldn't be another train for 25 minutes.
I looked back to check I hadn't left anything on the seat and caught the man's eye.
I could feel that my face had frozen into the mask of sour disapproval that is constantly frozen on the faces of many middle-class, middle-aged women.
I looked away, ashamed of my sub-conscious judgement (and possible jealousy).
I got on the train and it managed to pull away, despite the force of the sucking vortex which we had left behind on the platform.
Maybe I imagined it, but we seemed to struggle to get going, but once we were beyond the gravitational pull of the lovers' faces we shot off like a rocket.

I have a feeling the man was about to experience something similar.

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