Sneak Preview

I finally developed some of the film that I have sitting around (yes, you finally get to see Sasquatch photos). The wonderful thing is that every single envelope is like opening a Christmas present. The bad thing is that I literally have no idea what they are anymore. The problem with this is that Sam volunteered to drop them off and pick them up. He had a few rolls he wanted to develop as well. He dropped them without incident. It was when he picked them up that things got awkward.

Now, I worked at a camera shop for awhile in high school. Our policy was to offer to look through the photos with the customer so they could ask for corrections if they wanted. Often people were surprised we looked at the photos while developing them. I developed countless rolls of film and bore witness to a million shitty teenage party pics, awkward family photos, detailed photo documentation of a stuffed animal collection, two dudes and a stripper in a hotel room, christenings, graduations, marijuana plants, puppies, Haystock Rock, pretty much everything that could be documented with a camera. If something was particularly hilarious you would save a print to show the rest of your coworkers. We rolled our eyes at blown out, out-of-focus disposable camera pics, backlit portraits, and the people who wanted us to magically make them look better. The only thing you were required to report are photos of child pornography. The rest was fair game. That doesn't mean I wouldn't go out of my way to let someone know I thought their photos were lame (For instance, asking the businessman with the stripper if he would like to look through his photos in an overly sincere voice). Basically, people who work in camera shops are punks.

So, Sam goes to pick up the photos and receives a fair amount of grief from these kids. They're doing your classic knowing commentary and eventually throw out, "So, I guess you really like to party huh?" Sam is clueless. "Let's just say there are a few photos of a . .. uh .. . phallic nature." Sam is shocked. He looks through them. He doesn't recognize anyone in the photos except for Liz. It's a party and no one is really wearing clothes. He brings them home to me. Most of the people I don't recognize but it slowly comes back to me as I flip through the photos. The disposable camera I took to the "Anything but Clothes" party. We all have that water-logged look of people who were soaking their livers in beer on a regular basis. As I flip through it becomes apparent that someone took my camera. The photos are blurry and random. This camera thief first photographed people I didn't know, the floor, people's feet, and then he apparently tired of that and decided to photograph his penis. Horrible. And he had a Prince Albert piercing. More horrible.

Poor Sam.