Your boss, Rita Passage.

It takes you a second to place the face smiling up at you. Finally, it clicks. It's Rita, your boss from the night club.--well, not exactly. It's actually Hank Drummond, but at work, Hank is a trashy drag queen who goes by Rita Passage. Out of his drag persona, Hank looks like any other average Boston gay. He's short, skinny, slightly balding...a far fall from the fabulous bitch you're used to seeing.

As Hank greets you, you notice his eyes wander down toward your fat bulge. He's been pushing you for months to try stripping and go-go dancing, but you've done just fine tending bar, and you haven't been eager to get groped by the hoards of grabby slobs who frequent Hank's club.

"You know, with a cock like that you'd make a killing on the stage."

"I do just fine behind the bar, Hank," you reply with an eyeroll.

"Just think about it. Carlos quit last night and I'm short a dancer. I could probably throw a little something extra your way if you'd help me out."

"Not a chance, Hank."

He was used to your saying no. Unfortunately, it never stopped him from asking. The bell dings overhead and you realize this is your stop. You nod a goodbye to Hank and slip out of the train.