On the metro line in London wearing a blue and white dress I love. I have worn it to weddings and feel it makes me look good in an appropriate manner (to societies eyes). So imagine my surprise as I am talking to my mother standing on a crowded train as I feel a hand on my butt. At first, I thought it was a mistake. I might have imagined it or it was an accident (I can’t begin to count the bums I touched on transports). I didn’t think much of it and just moved a little. As the ride continued the pressure too. I realised it was the seventy-year-old sitting down behind me that was touching me. I didn’t do anything. I was too scared. Confused. Didn’t know what to do. When I told my mother as later that day she got annoyed at me for not telling her. I was 14. Now I hope I would have told him off, but I’m not sure I would. “There is a time and place for everything”.