After calling out that your station is running again, you wait for someone to come up to you and order a cup of joe. Get the ball rolling on the service worker front.
Fuck, it's Karen. You've had your fair share of run-ins back on Derse, regrettably. Judging by the overwhelming stench of cheap perfume, she's retained her department store job even in this alternation. As well as her tacky wig, unable to cope with being bald like the rest of you. She always thinks she's got your number.
Well, this time the tables are turned. You ask her what she'll have.