As another wave of commuters push into an already-full train car, you make a mental promise to yourself to start saving up for a car. Truly, you’re certain you can’t keep using public transport if this is what rush hour will be like indefinitely.

There’s a pressure that begins to accumulate behind you, but you don’t bat an eye. Not at first. The most you do is roll your eyes—this train’s been packed since you got on. Of course there’ll be people squeezing against you.

Though, you do fidget a little when a hand brushes up against your hip. Then again, it’s not like there’s room for one to move comfortably. Most people would excuse themselves, however.

Two minutes later, that same hand brushes against you. Your lower back this time. Maybe they’re just trying to get more comfortable. When the train reaches its next stop, you finally begin to wonder if there’s something afoot.

The guy—which, you’re very certain is a guy. The hand just feels like it belongs to a guy—plants one hand on each of your sides when the train lurches from a sharp turn.

You are so, so saving up for a car after this.