Holy Tuesday in the Wild Gay West

The man gets on the train wearing a plaid trilby hat. He has hooped pirate-style earrings, a white button-down, and perfectly manicured sideburns and goatee, his keys hanging from his beltloop on a black leather fob. He's also got plaid slip-on shoes, and plaid shorts. But why do his legs look so strange? Oh, right. He's wearing panty hose. No matter, I think. Must just be one of those "bear" types. But then he pulls out a tattered pocket-sized copy of the Holy Bible, opens it to a marked page, and begins to read right there on the train, standing among the rocking throngs. After a while he smiles to himself and looks up from the page, out the window and then to the ceiling, and closes his eyes to begin what I can only assume is a prayer. And he's sweating, and he's squeezing his eyes tight, and he's praying the living shit out of that prayer. And then suddenly his eyes are open again and he grins, content, as if he's receiving his guaranteed salvation right here on the train and we are all witnesses to his redemption this holy Tuesday in the wild gay West.