It's late night again as I head home from drinking in the Village. A girl wearing a typical booty-call outfit of sweats, Uggs, and hoodie sits down in my train. Her booty call tonight couldn’t measure up, but I assure her that I can rise to the occasion. She needs proof. The man she just left was more talk than action. It’s a pretty empty car, but she doesn’t mind a little company. I give her what she needs and more on this late night train ride back uptown.