Gloomy Daybreaking

I've just gone downstairs to get myself a foul, bitter cup of soupy coffee. I rarely drink the coffee at work. It comes from an old, abused espresso machine. I place the cup in the right position, hit a button and hear a collection of pipes and mechanisms grinding into action, moments before the pissy liquid is produced like the jet stream of an old dog. I mix lots of sugar in it, and a fair amount of milk but nothing seems to disguise the taste of detergent build up and stale coffee. This was the cup of coffee I had this morning, bitter and pungent, offensive to every one of the senses. A very suitable taste for such a morning.
I get the underground into work everyday but only for a couple of stops. Although this seems to be more than enough time to irreversibly piss me off. Getting on to the cramped vessel this morning, I asked very politely if a woman who was obstructing the aisle could move so as to allow a few more people on. She looked back at me blankly and said "No. There's no space" when clearly there was. She looked like an accountant, her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, it seemed to pull her features back with it making her taut and unsmiling. Like a cruel headmistress. Like Someone who would kick a puppy. So taken aback by such selfishness all I could mutter was a petty "well if you'd rather have us all crammed over here fine...". FINE. I got a few sympathetic looks from people around me. People taking sides in a little silent battle of futile wills. I loathe the passive aggressive mutterings of London commuters. I hate that I am one of them. I hate people. I'll drown thoughts of them in acrid cups of coffee which burn my lips and wonder how I can escape this.