Kelly Yu, Period 2, 5/12/21, Day A

 Kelly Yu

Period 2

5/12/21

Day A

The bar tonight was loud; flashing lights and a giant mesh of flesh made me retreat to the bartender. I never enjoyed going to bars, so I wondered what implored me to go out today. I always believed in horoscopes and tarot cards. Perhaps I am fated to be here tonight. After all, the fortune cookie from dinner did read, “A lifetime friend shall soon be made.” Right now though, leaving seems like a good idea. “One drink and then I will leave,” I promised myself.

The bartender recited his usual line, “What would you like?” 

To which I responded with “One shot of Chardonnay.”

While counting down the seconds until I could leave, heavy footsteps caught my ears. My eyes followed my ears. I shot a friendly smile at the stranger as he took a seat. My smile was nothing more than a social construct, nothing more than a forced smile. However, that smile turned into a curled smile and into interest. The stranger took Polaroids out of his pocket and laid them across the table. I recently started photography. I always dreamed of starting a business. Only if I got better. Maybe this stranger is the friend cookie forecasted. I peered over his shoulder and admired his work. I need to ask him for advice.

“Excuse me! I couldn't help but look at those photos. Those are amazing. Are you a photographer as well?” 

He looks annoyed. Was I interrupting his peace? But after hearing my compliments, his facial expression lighted up. He chuckled and responded, “Thanks, I-”.

At that moment, some drunkard knocked over the stereo, creating a ripple of screaming. I could not hear his response. I did not dare to annoy him further, so I smiled and nodded. He has a daunting demeanor, but maybe it was just his resting face. I couldn’t judge for someone who can easily fake a smile. 

I assumed he confirmed my guess. How else can such professional pictures be done? Those five Polaroids were better than my entire portfolio. I need to ask him for advice. 

“Do you have any tips on how to get better at photography,” I showed him my portfolio and continued rambling. “I’d really appreciate it. You seem like an expert.”

“It’s nerve racking to take your first shot. I recommend taking a deep breath in and just pull the trigger.”

I resonated with that. I had jitters during my first photoshoot with a client, but his lingo threw me off. He seems more relaxed now and we make fast conversation.

“Finding the best angle to shoot from is so difficult,” he sighs. “Especially when you’re trying not to be seen.”

“I know right! The photos always come out bad and the client looks stiff, but I guess it is our job to find that perfect angle.” Again, his language strikes me as odd, but I dismiss the thought. He knows the field so well!

I ask more questions. “What do you use to shoot?”

“90mm.”

“Huh, that’s pretty big. I use 7.7mm.”

He remembers something. I can tell since his face lights up and his eyes look more alert. There is no hostility, only passion. 

“My favorite spot to take shots from is the top of a roof.”

He must have a different style than me. “I never tried that. I took shots of a couple. Those are my favorite.”

We both got our drinks and cheered. I noticed his hands were steady, only moving the muscles he wanted to move. Mine shake even while doing a simple motion. Was it because I am tipsy? I guess that is how his photos come out so crisp.

“I prefer taking shots of people when they are alone. Also, make sure your hands aren’t shaking otherwise the shot will be bad.” 

He must’ve taken notice of my jitters. “Thanks. Trying to get them to smile instead of being nervous is really hard.”

“Their emotions don’t matter. I take the shot regardless.” I guess he does candid photos. My suspicions are coming back despite my guesses to fill in his cryptic words.

I prepared myself to ask him more questions, but a phone call interrupted the conversation. However, all my answers were answered when he walked away lugging a large bag. The tip of a sniper scope was peeking out. I don’t think he is a photographer. Was it possible to be friends with a sniper? I shook my head. I was trying to force the fortune cookie to come true. I never liked fortune cookies, anyway.