There is a woman using a coffee straw like a toothpick. She looks like Julia Roberts, if Julia Roberts had stringy hair. She is wearing a baseball cap with an over-sized fur pom-pom on the top. Mouth wide open, she methodically works her way through her back teeth. 

​Going over the bridge, between Canal and Dekalb, she pauses from cleaning her teeth to make a call.

“They only have it mocha. No, no brown. It will take longer to get brown. I want the long table.” She elongates the long to laawng. "I'll call you back. I'm about to lose - "

She resumes picking at her teeth. There is something, remnants of turkey burger, stuck between the molars on the left. It kind of hurts. When she rubs over the spot with her tongue she can still taste the turkey. She jiggles the straw to get at the morsel. The straw pushes the tiny bit of turkey deeper into the gap between the teeth.

At Prospect Park her phone regains reception. Straw still in her mouth, she picks up the phone. 

​“Huh? What? Yeh, I’m in Brooklyn.” 

At Church Ave she collects her bag. 

"I'm coming up now. I'm telling you, the brown isn't available."

She dumps the toothpick straw as she steps off the train. The end is wet with tiny bits of turkey stuck to it. It rolls on the floor, coming to rest under the seat.