October 2008
1 post
Waiting for the real photographer
Me, female, 24: I am booked by your company to take photos of the interior of your store.
Woman: Well yea, but you really don't need to. You see we have no time for this yet?
Me: My plane is not leaving until later tomorrow, I can drop by when you think everything is ready.
Woman: Didn't you already take enough pictures?
Me: Not of the finished place, obviously. I came from the other side of the country for this. You can imagine this is not just some playing around for me, right?
Woman: We already have a photographer for the store.
Me: Booked by your company? Are you sure that is not me? Sounds like my job.
Woman: Someone will take photos of our opening party later tomorrow. He is also going to photograph the store.
Me: I think taking pictures of the party is something else than capturing just the architecture. I did all the coordination with the layouters in Hamburg, the people in Darmstadt and Bonn. They know I am taking these photographs.
Woman: But he will do it. He is a real photographer, you know, a real one. He will come later today.
Me, patiently waiting until this woman has finished her sentence: I find it funny whenever someone starts talking about real photographers. Does that mean he is male and over thirty? What else makes him real?
Woman: Oh, ha, you really don't need to feel bad about this. [smiles, pads me on the back.]
Conversation is interrupted by some event person, I walk off:
[Turns out, the »real photographer« was a photo guy with party photo equipment and didn't even want to do anything else]