Ginger

"I'm only saying yes because I'm a photographer," Ginger said when I asked her for a picture. She wanted her two friends to be in the shot too, but they skedaddled at the thought of this strange guy with a strange camera taking pictures of complete strangers.

Ginger is from Chicago, and was in town just visiting. When she told me she was a photographer, I asked her what kind, and I believe she said, "art, and studio." I was proud that I asked her what kind, and didn't say what I said the last time someone told me they were a photographer. That last sentence was some foreshadowing for a tale that's coming as soon as I finish this sentence.

REMEMBER KAITLIN?
She got in contact with me today. Besides the fact that I spelled her name wrong (it's Caitlin), she also provided me the link to her website. I'm sure now that she emailed me I'll find her actual physical business card. And I'll also take this opportunity to write something akin to what was going to be my original entry, before I saw that I only had half a Caitlin to work with (maybe just a "cait"?).

When I ran into her, she was taking pictures of a medium sized dog that was having a ball pushing a Belgian paving stone around the middle of West 4th, way over by where it ends, a block from the Corner Bistro (where I had just come from, and was full of Bistro Burger goodness). I was in old school Japanese tourist mode, with both the Medalist and the YashMat hanging around my neck at the same time. She pointed at the YashMat and said, "I like that one," and I launched into my pitch.

When I asked her what she did, she said, "I'm a photographer." What I said next made me feel like the ultimate douche.

"Do you make a living from it?"

I'm getting the creeps just sitting here writing it. It's such a stupid question. Who am I to question whether someone makes a living from what they do or not? Now you see why when Ginger told me she was a photographer, I knew better than to ask that awful question, and just ask her what kind of stuff she shoots. It's like when you tell someone, "I wrote a book," and then they say, "is it published?" And I just want to say, "YES OF COURSE IT'S PUBLISHED! WHY WOULD I SAY I WROTE A BOOK IF IT WASN'T PUBLISHED AND WAS JUST SOME MICROSOFT WORD FILE SITTING ON MY HARD DRIVE?" I don't say that. I just say, "Actually, yes!" But that's a story for another day.

I told her that when she saw my site, she'd know I was a total impostor, and looking at her site...well...It doesn't do much for my ego. I've gots a long way to go...