Sitting there on my way into Da City reading Da Times when this old lady tries jumping onto the tube at the last moment. She makes it, but her big ol' holdall thing doesn't - it's trapped in the door. This woman gets up to help her, I would too, but I'm busy keeping my eye on this Muslim dude just to make sure he doesn't take out a remote control or something.
Anyway, this other passenger isn't having much luck freeing the old woman's bag, so now I and a couple of others - as the next closest passengers - go up to help. I get there first and in my eagerness to lend a hand I grab the strap and trying to pull the bag in through the door, rip it straight off.
The old lady's like "WTF dood!?", but I quickly redeem myself by switching to a new angle of attack! Thinking fast, I shove my arm in the door and lever it open, smearing my suit jacket with door grease and the dead skin of Lithuanian immigrants and chavs in the process. The grateful old woman smiles at me and goes to her seat.
I feel conflicted.