n. The act of rubbing against the body of another person, as in a crowd, to attain sexual gratification.
While I’m in the mood to embarrass myself, here’s another story (roughly number 45 in an ongoing series, probably). Some years ago I was heading home from work on London’s Northern Line. My train arrives at Leicester Square, slap-bang in the middle of the rush-hour, and is packed. I squeeze on, followed by a couple of dozen fellow commuters, and pretty soon we’re all scrabbling for air and room to stand. I’m crushed between four people at a near 45% angle, but can’t move to make myself more comfortable, a predicament heightened when the train pulls to a stop in the middle of a tunnel and shows no sign of moving. I try and tug myself into a comfortable standing position, at which point the woman I’ve been leaning against swivels round, glares at me and shouts, “EXCUSE ME! WILL YOU STOP TOUCHING ME?” The entire carriage goes silent and two hundred heads turn to stare at the pervert in their midst. It’s awful. I redden from head to toe, mumble a denial, and am grateful that the train starts to move almost immediately. I flee at the next station, leaving behind a wake of silently shaking heads, as others mutter angrily about how London simply isn’t safe for women travellers these days.
Wanna know the really weird part? The woman concerned was a former Coronation Street actress, and I’m not going to reveal which one.