Ghetto literature

For such a busy guy, today I actually had some spare time before lunch, so I gladly took the opportunity to go to the nearest mall to eat and relax a little. Next to the MacD (that's what I started calling McDonald's after watching too many Ali G Show's) is a Bertrand store, one of our biggest book sellers, and ever since I started my course on Editorial Studies I kinda got the habit of going there a lot, even if almost never buy a book (we have a very small market, so they're expensive as fuck).

So, anyway, there I was, being tempted by a 20% discount on Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion (that book has been on my list ever since it came out), which would still make it 16€ (fuck, do they think I'm rich or something? I got university fees to pay), few moments away from finding a recent translation of Sun Tzu's The Art of War (which I actually bought, for 6€ it was a steal), and being annoyed to death by 16 year old's yelling and laughing like they were still 10, when I spotted this guy:


Fuck, I didn't see that coming. Not just the guy alone, but the contrast. On one side you have a bunch of school kids, good looking, well dressed, who look like they can afford all the books they want, and still are just there goofing around, I don't have the slightest clue as to why they entered a book store in the first place, since that was obviously not their place. On the other side you have this guy, probably the closest thing to a real gangsta I've ever seen, dressed like he just came straight outta da hood, and yet there he was, calmly sitting down with a book on his hands, completely focused on what he was reading.

Man, that was a real eye-opener. You definitely can't judge a book by its cover, nor a person by its appearance. Peace out, G's!