Neal was on lunch, and currently indulging in one of his favorite guilty pleasures - a good deli meal. He'd gone down to Katz's, on Houston Street, and was digging into a good pastrami sandwich and chicken soup. This was almost as good as Marea.
He'd been enjoying himself, but as he started to eat his sandwich, the place started to get busy. Neal made sure his wallet wasn't within grasp of any wise-guy, but as he was shifting his tray, someone's hip bumped it and his soup went everywhere. "Damnit!"