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I almost got punched in the face for this fucking snapshit. I was taking some long exposures leaning against a wall in the subway when a horde of wild African gentlemen came hiding from the cops with their huge sacks of counterfeited purses and other forms of manure they sell above ground. I continued snapshitting once or twice more, which was followed by some immediate yelling from the most perturbed in the pack, in what seemed to me as a primal weaponized language. I remembered the old saying: around 0,0,0 never remain at ease. So I stood alert, ready for impact. They were so many, all yelling to each other, with the perturbed yelling more than anyone and gesturing towards me every now and then as if possessed. So there I was, trying to keep my cool. I was Capa on D day, Karter on Soweto. Finally, I had a little chat with one of of them, which went nice, and was soon on my way to continue snapshitting around the city.
