I went to Taste of Bushwick on Tuesday. My jealousy of “Tuesday me” is ripe. There was a moment when I clutched a Sixpoint Sweet Action AND a bourbon bacon bloody mary from Cafe Ghia in one hand, Mominette’s James River oysters setting atop Tchoup Shop’s watermelon/shrimp ceviche in the other. This moment was succeeded by a half hilarious, half pathetic juggly dance to get even one of these things in my mouth without putting anything down. The awkward glutton shuffle was a shared experience that the crowd’s bbq sauce grins betrayed acceptance.