While we ate, Indian prom couples paraded up and down the street. They were kids, and they looked great, so sophisticated. We’d just finished when a woman wandered in and approached our table for money. She wore a scarf on her head, pulled down low enough to cover her eyebrows. “Are youse people familiar with this neighborhood?” she asked. “’Cause I’m scared stiff.” This stretch of Devon Avenue, in the thick of an Indian neighborhood, is the last place to be frightened.
