Every once in a while, I'll be riding on the Long Island Railroad (the LIRR or lurrrrr) and, when I hear the "click clack" of a conductor's hole puncher further down the train car and I look up, I will see a really, really hot chick. I'd say one out of a hundred conductors is a hot chick, actually. 80 of those 100 are fat dudes and the rest of are either ugly chicks or dudes with whom I have no opinion but, were I gay, I'd say were hot.
It's always a shock to the system, that hot chick conductor. You're expecting to see a sweaty mound of a man packed tightly into his standard issue navy blue slacks and powder blue shirt, his fat folds spilling over and around the brim of his standard issue LIRR (lurrrr) hat and, instead, you see a tight bodied 20-something (usually Italian or Jewish) hottie whose slender frame is barely filling up her draped uniform.
I'm not one to do many double takes (yes I am), but when I see a hot conductor, I do a double take (of course you do... you're constantly double taking).
It's sort of like when you think the can of soda sitting on a table is completely full and then when you reach down to pick it up with full force, it's completely empty. Except, with boners.