by Angela Townsend Ryoji Iwata I can’t give up on humanity, because when I drive by Taco Bell at ten p.m. on a Wednesday, the chalupa line wraps around the building twice. People in friendship bracelets and people in button-down shirts and people in a state of grace are making mischief. People are here because they are hungry and people are here because other people make the food and people are here because visiting hours just ended at the hospital. People arrive in Priuses a