A Conversation at the Corner of 64th and Second Ave

I'm walking to work, trying to negotiate my two tote bags and Betty, who is pulling on her leash and hoovering up random pieces of trash from the sidewalk, causing me to yank on the leash and yell "Drop it! Drop it now!" over and over again.

Betty and I sidestep a random pile of raw chicken thighs someone has spilled on the corner (no, I'm not kidding), and wait at the curb for the light to change. An older woman with mussed hair approaches me. She is sunburned, her face streaked with dirt, her eyes grave.

She leans forward and asks, "Do you have any more cheese?" She is quite serious.

"No," I say. "I'm sorry, I don't."

"Okay," says the woman. "Thanks anyway."