Traffic Jams and Motorbikes
A few days ago I took my motorbike down to south Tel-Aviv today to get my seat repaired after someone slashed it. There is a motorcycle upholsterer down there. It would never have ocurred to me that such a person existed if I hadn't passed him by at some point. His name is Sasson and he is one of the old school Russian immigrants. The new school came in the nineties, wear designer clothing and are ultra-cool but Sasson belongs to the generation that arrived in the seventies and grew up revering Stalin, wearing design-free clothes and thought gold teeth were the ultimate in cool.