My adult daughter was riding the Orange, when a "person" sat beside her. This "person" began to chat with Sarah. "She" explained that "She" was coming to Boston from New York City (so, you all know where this is going, LOL) to attend a brother's funeral. "She" explained the homosexual brother had died of AIDs. "She" explained that "She" only did hard drugs once in a while.
"Her" hair was numerous colors, like a rainbow; clothing was stretched tightly and huge gold, gaudy jewelry, dripped in every place jewelery can be worn. (On the T???)
"She" also sported numerous tattoos and many piercings, "Some, "She" told Sarah, were in personal places." "She", then described the locations to my daughter... (NO! I am not going to tell you where. Use your imagination on this one.)
Now, "She" continued this banter and began to talk about my daughter's clothing, nails, red hair, makeup. Then, "She" began to talk about breast sizes, bras, corsets, stockings and garter belts. "Do you think I am pretty?" "She" asked. "As pretty as you?" (At this point, I asked Sarah why she didn't get off the T and wait for the next train. She replied, "I was having too much fun!)
Getting back to breat sizes, my daughter is "petite". "She" continued about how Estrogen enhances breast sizes. Tongue in cheek, Sarah turned the subject to whether "She" thought Sarah might be benefited by this hormone. Batting sezy false eyelashes, "She" gathered ample breats in hands and shook them, in time, with shoulders swaying to show Sarah. "She" the, lifted a skirt and asked if Sarah would like to feel smooth, hair-free legs. (My daughter declined.)
Finally, "Her" stop arrived. Blowing kisses and swishing hips as "She" deboarded the train, "She" said, "Ta-ta, Darling." Sarah watched as the 6'3" "person" vanished as the train continued.