Thursday, 26 April 2007

Funny Thing, This

There's a funny story about this photo. And seeing as you're reading this right now, you can bet your booties that I'm going to tell you that story. (Wait. Do any of you even have booties?)

Now, the story is very funny to me, but I'm pretty darn sure it won't be that funny to you. You had to be there. (There being in my mind.) Maybe you'll find it mildly amusing. At the very least, it'll give you something to do for the next couple of minutes and that's not so bad, eh?

Ok, so.

I like taking photos of people, but being shy, I basically never take photos of people I don't know. Unless I sneak attack. And then I feel very guilty about it. But I'll often look at people and wish I could get up the courage to ask them if I could just take their photo.

Now, on my trip back from my holiday a few weeks ago (which, I know, I still haven't talked about) I picked up a stomach bug. Er, well. I picked up an "all the places your food likes to travel" bug. Which, really? Isn't fun, as I'm sure you all know.

Because of this bug I had to take a whole lotta medications to keep me going (or...not going, I suppose) and these medications put into my poor little innocent body had me pretty doped up.

Now, I thought I was doing pretty well dopey-wise, and didn't feel more than a little dozy, which I figured was just my body fighting off the germs. Or whatever. I had no idea my perceptions were warping.

As we were waiting in the airport for our flight, I glanced up from my chair and noticed none other than the world's most gorgeous man sitting directly opposite me. I mean, like, *right there*. Close enough to touch, had I been so bold. (And, let me tell you, I very nearly was. This should have been the first sign I wasn't quite myself.)

After I'd stared for a while, doing my best not to drool or draw attention to myself, I turned to my Mom and motioned at her to lean in so I could talk to her privately. "Mom! Have you seen that guy?" (Nodding my head surreptitiously in his direction) Mom turned, looked and turned back. "Isn't he the hottest guy ever? I mean, EVER!?" My Mom looked at me, looked back at the guy, and looked at me again. I'm grinning like a cat with the canary and she just shrugged and said "Sure. I guess"

"You guess? You GUESS? Mom, he's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen in my life. Like, ever! I can't believe he's just sitting there. I've never seen a hotter man ever. Seriously! Ever! How can you stand it?"

Mom looks at him one last time and then leans in says "Victoria? I think it's the drugs talking. He's not *that* good looking."

I scoffed at her and proceeded to figure out how I could get photographic evidence of his superior hotness. I knew I couldn't just ask the Most Gorgeous Guy In the World if I could take his photo, so I got my camera out and began to clean it. Kind of.

I dusted out some sand from the lens cover, and while I pretended I was deleting photos, I took a bunch of highly illegal, paparazzi style, I'm embarrassed to admit, secret photos. Without looking. With my camera sitting on my lap.

Once I'd taken a few, I checked them out and between the photo of the floor, the photo of his feet, the photo of the ceiling and the photo of his guy's chin, this was the best (read: only) photo I managed to get of his face.

Success! I thought. I could share with the world (and y'all, of course) just what the Most Gorgeous Man Ever! looks like. I'd be famous! I'd be rich. And? He'd probably track me down and tell me (in a delightfully foreign accent) how he had fallen in love with me the moment he lay eyes on me in that fake pleather chair and did I mind that he was a prince and would I consider marrying him and would I like this massive diamond ring as a sign of his intentions?

*dreamy sigh*

And then I went home. And I downloaded my photos from my trip and went over them excitedly. I couldn't wait to stare once more at the World's Most Gorgeous Man.

And, well, yes. He is an attractive man. But, I have to admit... my mother may have been right. My extreme adoration may have been partially, if not almost completely hallucinatory. I mean, to be fair, the photo doesn't show him quite the way I remember him. And it probably isn't his best angle.

He really was way more good looking. Like, drool-worthy. Really. It's just a bad photo.

Not that I'm complaining. I still think he's rather dishy. I probably wouldn't kick him out of bed if it came down to it.

Especially after he offered me that ring!


Blogger Victoria said...

Um, hello? Why no comments? Come on? He's at least kind of cute, no?

Friday, April 27, 2007 6:52:00 pm  
Anonymous ynbf said...

I'm sure he is better-looking than in that photo as you had remembered.
It's very difficult to capture someone's essence with just one photo,
even if it's yourself. That's where the skill of a portrait photographer
comes in.

In this famous portrait of Winston Churchill, taken by Yousuf Karsh,
a Canadian photographer, he was given 2 minutes to take a photo of
Churchill who was in no mood for a picture. Karsh told Churchill
that his cigar had to go but he refused. So he walked up and ripped
it from his mouth. Suddenly, Churchill's expression turned to a frown
and that was when he took the photo, perfectly capturing Churchill's
character. Later, Churchill complimented him with "You can even make
a roaring lion stand still to be photographed."

Not that I advise you to rip cigars from the mouth of
The-Most-Gorgeous-Guy-In-the-World to take his photo, the point is
that portrait photography is very much a social art. The best shots
are taken when the person least expects it, resulting in a very
natural look. Get them to talk about a topic they're passionate
about. Hide the camera, taking snapshots when they least expects
it and listen for smile-looking words like "cheese" (if you want them smiling).

Friday, April 27, 2007 10:22:00 pm  
Blogger Victoria said...

hee hee! If he'd had a cigar YNBF and I had the nerve? I'd definately have ripped it from his mouth! ; )

I really like the photos I take of people when they let me. I just tend not to share them here : )

Friday, April 27, 2007 11:42:00 pm  
Blogger Yvonne said...

hehe, with those drugs you were on, I'm surprised it's not a photo of you sitting on his lap. >;-D

Sunday, April 29, 2007 4:10:00 pm  
Blogger Victoria said...

now *that* is a darn fine idea Yvonne! lol

Sunday, April 29, 2007 7:20:00 pm  
Blogger Jonathan said...

Is this similar to the long standing "guys" joke that you wake up with a very different girl than you remember going to bed with after a drink-fuelled night out?

I never had the above kind of thing happen to me... I would always be the quiet guy who doesn't hit on the girls - which of course ends with you being everybody's best friend... and nothing more than that.

I with I had been a bigger bastard - but then of course I wouldn't have been me.

Saturday, May 12, 2007 6:33:00 am  
Blogger Victoria said...

It could be similar to that Jonathan. "Beer goggles" for women? heh.
And I'm the female equavalent of you I think! Neve get hit on, never hit on. At least you got to be someone's best friend!

; )

Saturday, May 12, 2007 11:15:00 am  

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