I immediately saw him at the stop. Of the about thirty years, small, thin, disheveled and possibly offended, living appearance and without a fixed focus, I quickly guessed, with an unchanged smile that discovered the notorious dental absence and green, thick, plastic bottle with a turbocharged brew, whose taste I avoided.
The appearance did not help him: Broken jeans are not because of fashion, a heavenly shirt that knew the best times and ink, a similar and identical shirt of tone, Raid Sacon, which was a beige in some past, shoes that knew the goal as an original color and now, in short.
The subject was not lined up. He wore around the drag for as long as a black garbage bag that trembled in a bank. Simple curiosity or journalistic tick, I know that a bag for a consortium full of cans is usually quoted from 5,000 to 6000 pesos. I was sorry for the stranger: for what he was carrying, they were going to give Hirolas if they did not fire his head.
Piety disappeared with a vision of a collective and quick movement, which did not perceive its destructive breathing, The guy slipped behind me. I felt a wallet, keys, a mobile phone, clinging to the ascent.
And a naked, miserable, absurd miserable profile of my prejudice appeared. I had a knight The unfortunate number of visual, auditory and, possibly, olfactory data This led me directly and stupidly to an absurd conclusion: it was dangerous for me.
I got up with all the advantage that allowed me to warn and supported the growth of an electronic controller who noted me red. A man in the framework of a series of words that my four -year -old daughter condemns and, cursing my memory, the mortal remnants of my memory and their closest relatives, I started the descent. And parted.
He dragged it, with a smile, while Rigant held his disabled card and whispered something to the team. I was allowed a stepI wanted to bring a ticket to my friend to thank his help. With a gesture, just as decent, he rejected him.
My completely new friend came before me from the team. Arriving at the door, as a farewell, he gave me his spacious smile, he sounded his banks, woke one of his hands, and then extracted a small wooden crucifix from his shirt and showed me that his gesture of solidarity had heavenly origin.
I was confused in the back seat, contemplating, humiliated, a mirror of nothing pleasant of my prejudices. I imagined – Avoqué? – Millions of times when people despised, poorly turned and even martyr with associations of thoughts, as open as those that he experienced. And I thanked my unknown friend from my heart A lesson in the humility that gave meBy that time, my dignity was more canceled by the field than the last bank of his miserable bag.