As I went out with Scott on a date the other day, I thought: We look hip, and we’re hanging out downtown. I even braved the unzipped dress. We should take pictures! Great stylish pictures!
Except this is me and Scott…
I start out like most cool people do… with someone walking across the street.
Me: Okay Scott, now take a picture of me.
Scott: Alright! Wait you keep going in and out of the shadows.
Me: Well, it’s supposed to be natural and artsy.
Scott: Artsy? Why didn’t you say so?
Me: Fine, artsy is dumb. Just take a nice picture of me with something pretty in the background.
Me: Why do I look weird in every picture?
Scott: Well, why do you make this face.
Me: I don’t know! Other people must get lessons in how to pose. I want to look nice. I want my boots in the picture. I want it to not be blurry. I want the background to not be a random person or dirty clothing. ONE GOOD PHOTO ON OUR DATE. GO!
Scott: Fine, sit there.
SNAP SNAP SNAP
Me: No seriously, I just farted. I think that’s our bat signal to be done with this attempt at cool.
So we dried our tears until the next 11 things we did that were awkwardly hilarious to us. Like when I decided to take my photo in the reflection of a window of apartments that are not yet finished and the security guard thought I was casing the place. Seriously? I can still seem sketchy at 34 years old? High-five-ish because I think jail time is a lot longer than when I was 15.
We did get some non-troublesome pictures that along the way, too.
PS. I kept thinking about how I could redo this entire post and have only blogged about how amazing our date was and how cool our city is and how we are so breezily photogenic with some editing and cropping and leaving out all the mess. It’s good for me to remember how much the outsides and the glimpses don’t equal the realities. And even though I’m embarrassed when I don’t get things right, I like the laughter in the mistakes the most.