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    It’s photo time again! If I were giving my current photos to my plus one or something like that, they’d be great, but the way I’m posed, it looks like I’m hiding my fat. Which would be fine, if I were fat, but I’m not. The photos just aren’t working for me. And even if they were, I’ve had them for a while now, it’s time to get new ones. The photographer I used for the last shoot was a friend of Alex’s and as a result I got an incredibly sweet deal. I did not realise the deal I got until I started looking at other photographers. 

    I wasn’t super keen to go back to her again, simply because it would involve explaining. Why do I need more photos? I don’t know. I also feel like I would be taking advantage of a favour. Although she is an incredible photographer, I am not a professional model, and I need a little more guidance with posing and whatnot. So I go on line and see what else is out there. I find this amazing website, and I’d actually heard of the company before. The photographer knew what she was good at, and worked it. The photos were all unique, but artistically similar. It was exactly what I wanted. 

    The next day I called in and booked a consult, and she was super friendly. She had this questionnaire for me so that she could get to know me, and find out exactly what I wanted. She felt that if she knew me as a person, she would be better able to portray that on ‘film’. It seemed to make sense to me. June and I were talking my way in, and I told her that I was going to tell them that the photos were a Christmas present for my fictional plus one. 

    She asked me what I did for a living and I told her about the concierge company I worked for, and she was fascinated by it. Too fascinated. A waterfall of questions followed. 

    “Wow, that sounds great! What kind of services do they provide?”

    I told her.

    “What are their rates like?”

    Ugh, I hate this question. “It really depends. It kind of works like Triple A, with different membership levels. There’s three different tiers, and it depends on how you pay, and what services you get..” This is all true. But she was giving me a blank stare, waiting for an answer, “Basically, it’s about $80 an hour.” {True} 

    “Really! That sounds great! I know some people who would be very interested in it! Do you have a card?”

    “Uh, let me check,” Dig dig dig through purse, “Oh, it looks like I’m all out.”

    “No worries, what’s the phone number?” 

    Are you kidding, I have no idea! “Why don’t you just check out the website. It’s blahblahblah.com,” I think it’s dot com. It might be dot something else. 

    “So do you do this on your own?”

    “No, we’re a company of five, Samantha runs it.”

    “Really, so it’s all girls like you?”

    “Well, it’s me and another girl, and we have a cleaner, and her parents help out sometimes.” {True} When is this rapid fire questioning going to stop???

    “What’s Samantha’s last name?” Yeah, she’s writing all this down on her little yellow post-it note. 

    I don’t remember! I say the first name that comes to mind, which is the last name of the only other Samantha I know. Fail. The whole thing was a fail. Fuck. After it was all over I didn’t know whether I should call Samantha and give her a heads up about the bucket of mis-information that was going to be coming her way or not. I decided against. Maybe this photographer lady was just sucking up, and pretending to be interested in giving business back. I hope to god that’s what’s happening. 

    But wait. It gets worse. 

   She finally releases on that bone, and we continue on. She asks when the last time I was in front of a camera. I didn’t want to tell her six months ago. 

    I said, “My dad’s a photographer, so I’m in front of a camera all the time. I still feel super awkward about it though,”

    “Oh really! What’s your Dad’s name.”

    “Oh, you probably don’t know him, he lives in Whatevertown.”
    “Try me!” She was all excited about this six degrees of separation game. So I tell her. “Norm!” She shouts down the hall way, “Come in here, you’ll never guess who is here! This is Realme, her dad is...” 

    “No kidding. I haven’t seen you since you were this big!” He says lowering his hand down to mid thigh. Fuck. My. Life. 

    “Ha ha, well sorry if I don’t remember you!” I laugh and shake his hand, “I’m all grown up now, please don’t tell my dad I’m getting boudoir photo’s taken!” 

    “Oh, no, of course not. You know your dad and I use to par-tee together!!!” 

    “Oh, I’d believe that! If Dad knows anything, it’s how to have a good time!” My heart is in my throat and I just want it all to be over. Such a shaky tower of fucking cards I’ve built that can still all come crashing down. Samantha knows what I do. During the interview process, she cornered me. Aggressively. My third cover story wasn’t passing with her, so I caved and just told her the truth. I got the job though, so... but if this lady calls, if Samantha finds out I’m using her as a cover story... If she tells the photographer, and Norm finds out... I just can’t think about that. 

    If only it was six degrees of separation. Now it’s just one. 

    Norm leaves and we return to business. Questionnaire over. Price time. $2,000 for their basic package. $2,000! Frick. I was hoping to spend closer to $500. Alex’s friend cost $200, plus $200 for the stylist. Frankly, even though my dad is in the business, I have no concept as to what is competitive for pricing. I choked on this though. 

    I said, “Although I’m sure your product is worth it, I’m not quite prepared to invest that much money in it. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” Her photos were amazing though. Everyone of them looked like they could be on the cover of Maxim. 

    I walked out of there feeling like I was going to puke. 

    I phoned the agency and asked if we had a photographer that we used. We don’t specifically, but she recommended I call my boss. She would probably know. Sure enough, she had a photographer’s number memorised. I called and got a consult booked for that evening. Perfect! Maybe I’ll have new photos before Christmas after all. His studio is in his basement. When I arrived, he took my coat for me, and placed it on the couch amongst next to his cat and many dogs. I do not have severe allergies, but I do not enjoy them. 

    “I’m sorry,” I say politely, “Would you mind if I hung it in the closet? I’m allergic.” 

    “Sure,” He said, and passed me my coat and nodded in the direction of the closet. Seriously. These are the manners you use on a potential client? Ha. Call me a snob, but I generally put a higher value on customer service than the actual product. 

    We go down into the basement where his portraits are displayed through out. Mmmm, I was not impressed. Many of the portraits used the same style foam core faux brick structures my dad bought for his studio in the early 90’s. And disposed of in the late 90’s. Most of his back-drops were created by satin fabric draped in various ways. Everything was so dated. Even his styles. It was awkward. I didn’t know what to say. He went through his speel of all the different options of back grounds we could use, and props, and his wife would be able to do my hair and make up for me. Jee, really? I don’t know. I feel guilty, but I was unimpressed to the point of being annoyed. I couldn’t believe my boss used this guy. Every thing he showed me looked like it was circa 1997. I showed him the website of the lady I saw this morning. 

    “You see how the focus is more on the girl, and not the back ground. That’s kind of what I’m looking for. You see how it’s all in how they lit it to feature different body parts?” 

    “Well, yes, of course good lighting is important,” He says like I’m the dumbest person in the world. 

    Right. Ok then. I love it when men try to make me feel dumb. His photos had such flat light. I decide to still give him a chance. When I talked to his wife on the phone earlier, she said that the shoot was $400. If it doesn’t work out, then no big deal. As he goes through the price tiers, he explains that the shoot is $400, but if I wanted the images the price goes up. What the hell is that. That’s like saying a meal costs x, but if you want it on a plate, well then...! In the end for three different sets, it would be about a grand. 

    “So when should we book?” He asks me. 

    “Well you’ve given me a lot to think about here, why don’t I give you a call” I say. Pet the dog. Go get your coat. 

    Suddenly the other photographer isn’t looking so bad. $2,000 is so much money though. But the thing is, I know it would pay for itself. I know she would make me feel comfortable. I know the photos would be amazing. We would get four sets out of the deal, so I could rotate pictures quarterly. Ugh. I just don’t want to shell out that kind of money.