The other day a male friend met me for dinner looking pale about the gills and generally discombobulated. It transpired that, during his Tube journey, he'd been what can only be described as 'set upon' by a group of inebriated women who were on a hen night. As they shrieked an ear-splitting version of Beyonce's 'Who Run the World (Girls!)', two of them proceeded to sit on his lap, pinning him to his seat, while a third performed an involuntary (on his part) lap-dance. Luckily, they disembarked a few stops later (still screeching and flinging their arms around random male passers-by) otherwise my friend would have been trapped in his seat all the way to zone six. He couldn't make himself heard over the impromptu karaoke and didn't feel he could push them off for fear of appearing aggressive. So, he simply laughed along uncomfortably, praying the entire humiliating episode would, at some stage, come to a conclusion.