The bullet...

It was 716am and I was among the lined up passengers at Stockshore Station waiting for my turn to get into the bullet. As usual, we - the passengers, stood patiently looking at the front most passengers get into limited space of the bullet and held their breath to tug their tummy inward so they wont be rejected by the bullet. And, of course, I smiled to the thought of that.

Well, the line behind me lengthen rapidly from the past minute. There was a middle-aged woman behind me and a cute bloke behind her and an asian lady holding a cup of coffee sealed to perfection to ensure that it was safe for boarding. As I studied the rest of the line, I realized that there were many men in my line and that it would definitely be awkward in the sardined bullet. My mind was running wild thinking of appointments today as I was reaching closer to the one of many mouths of the bullet.

Today, I decided to wear my pumps with pure silver rings from Guess - its black by the way. A knee-length, sleek looking skirt and a black shirt to go with that. I did my hair using a white hair band, tied it with a simple bow at the back of my hair and let my curls loose with the extras of the hairband reached the top of my skirt. I put on my Britney Spears' "Believe" to essentuate my morning as motivation. My lappie bag was safe as I guarded it at the pit of my elbow - it was heavy though, good as a form of an exercise for my hands. The speaker announced the arrival of my bullet in a few minutes and I was ready to crashed the bullet.

The bullet finally arrived. As the door opened for me, I gasped. It was filled with men. As I squeezed in I knew that the others behind me managed to sardinized themselves into the bullet, including the cute guy and the asian lady. The hungry mouth of the bullet consumed the eager and ever so willing passengers and sped off. When the squeezing took place I managed to turned and saw the whole scenario behind me. I was just standing behind the middle-aged lady and the cute bloke was now right next to me. The asian lady was exactly in front of him - holding the sealed polysterine cup.

As the bullet halt to a stop to another station, more passengers pushed and rushed into the bullet until the middle aged lady stepped on my shoes. I couldn't move so I said "You are stepping on my shoes," politely with a smile. She didn't even looked at me. I repeated myself, this time around a little louder. She did not make any effort to lift her old ballerinas from my highly pumps. My toes were beginning to ache. I couldnt take it anymore. So I tapped her shoulder and this time I blurted out my pain from my toes and spoke it out - loud enough to attract attention of the passengers of the neighbouring carriages. "Excuse me, but I think YOU are standing on my left foot!" I said. She looked at me, and then, she put her palms together, looked at me and look at my shoes. She stepped away from my foot and then she shaked her hands, apologizing I guessed. Then she pointed to her ears and then shake her hands. Less that I know, she is deaft and dumb. I heard giggles around me and I heard the loudest laugh from the cute bloke next to me. I was agitated as the bullet resumed its journey.

As the bullet reached Trafalgar Square Station, the crowd was even more than other station. The cute bloke irritated me through glances and snorts and smiles. The building in crowd left us bump to bump and hump to hump with each other. The rushing people pushed and pushed until the door shut and the bullet roared to the next station. My station was soon to come and so I was happy to get out of this mess. When I said mess it means mess and I left the bullet with a broad smile on my face.

The cute bloke, was bathed in coffee as the crowd pushed and the lady accidentally pushed against his white with pink shirt.