For Faith - a graphic novella

I decided to just go for a walk rather
than taking an honest to god lunch
break. I walked right up to york street,
as if I was going to hop on the train and
leave, right then and there. Of course,
I needed to clock back in, so I decided
against my obtuse journey down to park
slope. You should really, really know
though, how glad I was that I walked all
the way out. As soon as I turned around
- I saw a halal truck.
An honest to god halal truck. In DUMBO!
I can’t tell you how many times I looked
up where I could get falafel and rice,
how many times I’ve said “okay google,
halal food near me” out loud, in public,
to my phone. This was it. Deliciously
seasoned food, carbs and veggies and
protein - right there in an aluminum
container. For under 7 dollars. I could
not contain my excitement then, and I
could hardly express it now - I walked
down to that truck like I was late to my
own inauguration.
What got me about this truck, though,
was the guy running it. He clearly had
made a few friends vending dishes
to the people, fist bumping a few
construction workers who walked
by, no commercial intent in sight. This
was someone who had a job, friends,
personality. He was in charge of my
meal. He made it, packaged it and put
it on the metal platform extending
from the window.
But he hadn’t told me it was mine - he
plopped it right on the platform
as I walked up and got out a 10. I
handed it to him, he handed me the
change, and looked the other way.
Now, in this moment, one might think,
oh, everybody else gets the sweet
talk, but not me? Did I look at him
funny? Really, rather than worrying
about what I might have done wrong, I
wound up liking the guy a bit more. He’s
not lying. This is a genuine human being,
that feels and reacts, that exists in an
environment through his preferred
method, that made my lunch. I’ll make
sure to come back, maybe I’ll earn a
fist bump by the end of it.