English translation below.Quelques Extraits...
''J'étais dans un restaurant, à la droite de mon ami Moshe qui m'avait invité dans un restaurant à la mode de la quatrième rue dans le centre de Tel Aviv, les cheveux blondis par le sel de la mer et le soleil après avoir été teints de couleur gris platine et ce qui m'allait très bien. Bronzé, cette touffe épaisse et séchée sur ma tête me rendait horriblement vulgaire et je me sentais de cette allure physique ordinaire et gay, mal à l'aise au mileu des autres convives de la haute société israélienne et new-yorkaise. Les plus beaux de mes vêtements ne pouvaient effacer cette apparence de bas quartier qui ne me ressemblait pas. On ne voyait que cette chevelure faussement blonde d'une algérienne de banlieue immigrée que j'étais ce soir-là. ''
Mister SB, Tel Aviv.
The guy could break rules. He was not a bourgeois.
'' I was in a fashionable Tel Aviv restaurant located in the 4th street sitting next to my friend Moshe on his right, with blond tinted hair by too much sea and sun after I had them tinted in platine grey that suit me very well. Tanned, this thick dry block of hair on my head was making me look so vulgar with an extraordinary cheap low class queer gay look that did not match the Israeli and New-York upper class table Moshe had invited me to join. Even my most beautiful clothes could not wipe off this suburban refugee appearance that was not me. I felt awkward as one could only see this blond tuft that made me look like an immigrated Algerian slut on that evening. The sit in front of me was empty and Moshe had told me we were expecting one more late guest that I never met and that he liked very much. Simon was his name. ''
Mister SB, Tel Aviv.
The guy could break rules. He was not a bourgeois.
'' I was in a fashionable Tel Aviv restaurant located in the 4th street sitting next to my friend Moshe on his right, with blond tinted hair by too much sea and sun after I had them tinted in platine grey that suit me very well. Tanned, this thick dry block of hair on my head was making me look so vulgar with an extraordinary cheap low class queer gay look that did not match the Israeli and New-York upper class table Moshe had invited me to join. Even my most beautiful clothes could not wipe off this suburban refugee appearance that was not me. I felt awkward as one could only see this blond tuft that made me look like an immigrated Algerian slut on that evening. The sit in front of me was empty and Moshe had told me we were expecting one more late guest that I never met and that he liked very much. Simon was his name. ''
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