I followed her gaze to a knot of people who were clustered around a man who stood on a plastic shipping crate. While they watched, he pierced his tongue with a spine that looked as though it had come from a cactus, then threaded a string through the bleeding hole. Affixed to the lower part of the string were a series of barbs. Slowly, with a look of rapture on his face, he pulled the string through his tongue, sending gouts of blood flowing down over his chin. I gagged and turned away. Suddenly I wasn’t quite so hungry any more.