Charming. Prince Charming.

How does one call for a hero? What is the heroic equivalent of an employment agency in the current world?

Testy pondered the question. In the days of kings and quests, one presumed the ruler of the moment just put the word out, and heroes flocked to serve him, lined up in front of his throne. But what was one to do, when one was a piebald, roly-poly drag queen?

“Bet he’d turn up if it were Rachel freezing her ass off up here,” Testy grumbled.

“Que?” the waitress asked as she slopped more coffee-flavored swill in Testy’s cup.

“Never mind. But I bet he’d show up if it was you tied to the railroad tracks and screaming for help. Or even just lost in the wilderness.”

The waitress smiled in confusion and waited.

Testy waved her away. “No, no, I’m not going to order anything else. Thanks, doll. Don’t mind me, I’m just a crazy old leftover.”

Another smile, and a burst of Spanish as the girl walked away.

“Gracias and da nada, doll,” the drag queen sighed. “Now, if I could just get Rachel threatened by an evil mastermind, I bet we’d have our hero here in no time. Wonder what Donald and Rudy are doing?” Although, come to think of it, there were plenty of dire threats around Manhattan that didn’t even require the services of a megalomaniac. Maybe, once her nubile sidekick got home from the West Coast, all Testy would have to do was abandon her in any unfamiliar neighborhood, and she’d be hero-fodder in an instant.

“Or…” Testy drawled, staring into her coffee. Her showgirl sidekick was at that moment in the air somewhere mid-flight. She was zinging, winging between SFO and JFK, having spent the last week getting warm and visiting her parents out West in Sacramento. She'd complained so hard and long about the cold in New York that Testy had practically shoved her onto the gangway in the first week of December.

Now, she was coming back East, apparently fortified with enough sunlight and orange juice to survive the New Year. Or so worn out enough by her mother's comments about missing husbands and unforeseen grandchildren that even Manhattan in the slush of winter would seem like a respite.

She landed tonight, sometime late. Testy pondered. Rachel was a little long in the tooth for the classic damsel in distress, Testy thought to herself. But that had never mattered too much in Las Vegas.

She checked her watch and tried to remember exactly what time Rachel's flight was due to land.

NEXT POST: WHAT THE SEER SEES (Friday 1/1)