The train was stalled on the platform for what felt like a long time. Across the aisle from me there was a dozy drag queen. A juvenile in a sweet duster sauntered in. I always get a little nervous in scenarios where the ratio of stock and/or ridiculous characters starts to tip. It’s like the tranquil prologue to some action or disaster flick. Luckily as we waited, no errant mimes entered, nor any bickering German tourists with guide books. Nary an Amish teen on Rumpspringa! The doors finally closed and we left the station. I lost track of the drag queen, but I don’t think (s)he slept through her stop.