Wash had been sleeping in naps for a couple of days, since time started being a sha gua ((stupid egg)). These were not planned naps, though. He usually sat down somewhere and fell asleep, as he hadn't been sleeping otherwise. So far it had been in a library, at the super market (the salads were not good pillows), in the park, and most recently and currently on a bench.
Wash startled awake, hair frizzy and deep grooves of bench slats on his face, one through his eye causing his vision to blur. He rubbed the offending eye and sat up grumpily. The time said 3pm (on his new $1.00 watch) but the night mocked the very idea.
His stomach grumbled and he checked his rumpled cash. With a long suffering, congested sniff he stood up and right into a line. He hadn't meant to suddenly be in queue but as more people filed behind him he found himself unarguably in line, waiting...for something.
"Uh..." he stammered, rubbing his hands on his Hawaiian shirt. He tapped the shoulder of the man in front of him. "This is a weird question," he admitted, "But...what are we in line for?"
He rubbed the blurriness out of his eye again, broad red lines still marking his former "pillow".