OK! I have just watched another sixty-something woman, hobbled on a four-pronged walking stick, make like Mufasa as a stampede of City boys charged into a Northern line carriage. This isn’t Charli XCX’s Glastonbury set. We are not vying for a glimpse of the latest K-pop sensation in town. It is a Transport for London service no one wants to be on, and maintaining group courtesy is the only thing holding it together. What’s happened to behaving on the Tube?
