Exiting a crowded train at my stop in Queens I fall in behind a young woman. She’s dressed in a felt trench coat and matching beret, a long black skirt and stylish boots. Her outfit seems carefully chosen and well put-together, and stands out this rush hour sea of puffy jackets, sweatshirts and shapeless overcoats. When we arrive at the bottom of the stairs there’s already a small cluster of commuters waiting for the light to change. I notice the young woman, who’s now standing next to me, fishing for something in her trench coat pocket. She finds what she’s looking for and brings it up to her mouth. ‘Lipstick,’ I think, and look away. But when I look back her head is bent forward and she’s lighting what looks to be a small dark object. A vaping pen? No, those don’t require lighting… She inhales deeply, tilts her head back, and exhales a long, grey column of smoke into the night sky. In her left hand I now have a clear view of the object: a marijuana pipe. She continues taking casual hits from the pipe as the light changes and she sets off along with the rest of the throng across the street.