My PhotographerPosted: March 3, 2013
“Work it, Girlfriend!” she said as she snapped some random pictures of me. Then she snatched the visor off my head. “No one wears these anymore, Joey!” her voice stern as she tossed it aside. My face was frozen in shock for a moment after having a nine year old tell me I was out of style. She calls me Joey. I don’t know how that started, but I don’t remember her calling me by any other name, either.
“Okay, now stand like this,” she said, showing me how to pose, but when I failed to mirror her properly she had to manually pose me like a Barbie doll. One foot here, my arm bent like so, and don’t smile! “Now try to be cool!” So…I tried. Apparently that wasn’t good enough. “You’re trying too hard! Don’t try. Just be! Like me!”
From there, she proceeded to explain to me how you don’t try to be one thing or another. You just let it sort of flow through your veins and manifest as coolness somehow, at least that’s what I’m guessing because I couldn’t get it right then and I can’t get it right now.
So the moral of this story is, no matter how cool you try to be or think you are, there’s always a nine year old out there to tell you otherwise. Or sometimes a five year old. Or a twelve year old. And they also like to make fun of you in front of the really cute waiter at the restaurant to where you’re blushing and laughing so hard that you want to just crawl under the table. “Oooooh, I see you looking at him!” “You’re trying to act all girly!” “Oooooh, he gave you extra candies ‘cos he likes you!”
Just deliver my plate down here, under the table. I’m too humiliated to face anyone. Too humiliated, but too hungry to pass up the meal. Oh well…The extra Andes mints helped heal some of those emotional wounds from that embarrassing day.