Wednesday, June 13, 2018 5:24 AM

Rather than scooping up the hummus with the pita that came with it, the man at the table across from mine has torn the bread up in small pieces and tossed them in the bowl. He stabs them with his fork then dredges the hummus with that. Like my falafel, his plate came with what this place calls chips, thick slices of sweet potato, deep-fried. He doesn't touch them. When he leaves, I'm tempted to grab them from his tray and eat them myself, but, as usual, I worry about breaking some societal rule that I haven't learned yet. When I get up, I see that a truck is blocking the sidewalk and the near lane of traffic. Its panel shows day-glo cupcakes and shouts "Happiness -- it's us!" The drivers honking at it disagree.