It’s 8:32 am on the Central Line, and I’m wedged between a backpack that thinks it’s furniture and someone’s over-enthusiastic umbrella. My morning Matcha has started to slosh perilously close to my lap, and I’ve got one hand clutching the strap of my handbag and the other clutching my patience. And then – bam – a snog. Full-on, public, tongues-maybe-involved, right there in the crush of the carriage. My first instinct: look away, look away, this isn’t my business. My second instinct: ugh, why do I feel awkward.

We’ve all had our key memories on the Tube – ones that makes you wish the carriage could swallow you whole or, alternatively, makes you appreciate the unpredictability of London life. Depending on your situation, this lands differently. Single? You might feel a pang of envy  –  or a little desperate, scrolling through dating apps later thinking,  Taken? Maybe a flash of jealousy or an internal debate about the current state of your somewhat stalemate partnership. And sometimes, it’s just plain awkward, especially when someone’s rogue elbow is digging into your ribs mid-snog, longing looks into each other's eyes or to add insult to injury a commuter serenades the carriage with a ukulele in the middle of it all.