The money shot

  
Some things, you just can’t plan for. I was recently at the SouthPark Mall in Charlotte, North Carolina. Outside the Neiman Marcus, the corridor is stunningly decorated with an Aston Martin. Been there for months, hasn’t sold yet. ANYWAY, I was walking past and saw an “I-almost-went-to-Woodstock” sort of ex-hippie, ogling the car, trying to get a selfie. This being a never-to-be-repeated opportunity, I started running to get into position to take my own picture — hair flying behind me, shopping bags banging against my leg, trying to look as though I were absorbed in reading email. Then he flagged down a young lady who agreed to take his picture as he tipped his hat: to her? to prove he still had as much hair as he did when Jimi was still alive?

If you are ever in a situation like this, and don’t want to seem obvious about taking someone’s picture, just remember what one of my first photo teachers told me: “pretend you’re getting paid”. You’ll do whatever it takes to get the shot.

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