As I slowly inched closer to the bar, I began to wonder how on earth I’d get our drinks back through the heaving mass of people. Thankful that I wasn’t claustrophobic, I slowly shuffled along with the crowd. I could still move my arms but otherwise I was almost totally immobilised. For some unseen reason we had all come to a complete stop. Being above average height gave me the advantage of spotting potential “sliding into gaps” opportunities, but eventually I had to accept that I was going nowhere fast, and was destined to remain thirsty for some time. I looked around at my temporary colleagues. Apart from hair colour, and a stab at gender, I couldn’t really tell you much about the people who were standing so close to me that we knew what the sides of each others legs felt like. My mind started to wander. A thirty or so deep crowd of people, all piling in one direction – what were they all thinking? How many pockets had been picked? How many people were accidentally on purpose feeling up the person in front of them?
