Another guy, let's call him Jesus,
offered me a lot of button up shirts that didn't fit him. I was taken
aback by it because I had him pegged as a bravo.
Y'know, I spend a lot of time
classifying people in one way or another. I like having a reference
point for these things, but it does occasionally lead me to forget
that most people are generally good.
There's another guy, Aubert. He wears
frosted sunglasses inside, big, colorful shorts that are too big for
him, and a sleeveless undershirt as a regular shirt. He dresses
gangsta, is what I'm saying.
Aubert doesn't acknowledge people in
the halls. He doesn't follow the rules. But he does realize why the
rules exist and acts within those parameters. A lot of the guys here
roll their own tobacco. When they do it inside, they usually create
a tobacco-y mess. So the caseworkers made a rule that it wasn't allowed. Aubert
still does it. He picks up after himself though. He breaks the rules
and he projects a certain image, but he's still a good guy who
responsibly acts as a member of the shelter.
Again, once—perhaps especially—you
get past the labels, most people are good.
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