Here on the day I go to the subway, early in the morning, the car is still half empty, everyone is asleep. At one of the stops comes a man: dirty jeans, some fuzzy jacket, shoes on the sleeve breathe, in the hands of a regular plastic bag, too, not new, even the drawing wiped out. He sits opposite and gets, scuco, out of his drained iPad package (!!!) He’s busy, busy with something. And I sit down and think with my pen on my stereotypes.