Sunday, June 27, 2010

Bad Photo Good times



So, I flip flop into Best Buy to purchase my first digital camera.

Between trying to sell some stuff online, and taking this blog somewhat seriously, I decided it was time to take a giant leap into 2002. Also, I was shamed during a trip to Costa Rica, when a sinewy, golden, 20-year-old blond in shorts about the size of my thong pointed at my film camera and said “What’s that?” So. Yeah.

I approach shopping as I do all things – having done absolutely no research and having no idea what I really need, want or should spend. I like to watch a story unfold. I’m all about the journey.

Anyway, I enter Best Buy still suffering from a cold I can’t shake, having just been told that Panera is no longer selling tomato soup because “it’s out of season.” I’m not usually one to pick on a teenage girl saving up for a pair of Seven jeans. But what the what? Is summer not tomato season? So, I’m sick, disoriented, hungry and in no mood.

That’s when I’m greeted by Dorothy, a small blond in a blue smock who would be about my aunt’s age – if I had an aunt. She introduces herself, and tries to help me, but at this point, the Sinutab is kicking in and I’m just pushing shiny buttons and whispering “pretty, pretty.”

So she makes herself scarce for about 15 minutes. But is apparently undaunted by peculiarity. She appears again over my right shoulder.

“Do you know what you are looking for,” she asks.

I look into her green eyes. Wow, I think, there are about a gatrillion answers to that question.

“Just your basic digital camera,” I say.

She points in the direction of a reasonably-priced Fuji, just marked down today. Its greatest selling point, she says, is this massive red dial on the back with images denoting a flower, dog, smiling person, and smiling group. It’s supposed to make the camera easy to use. But I already know I can’t whip out that thing in front of my girls. I’ll look like a freaking dork.

“Yo,” I say. “I’m a lot cooler than that. I can’t roll with that big, red dial.”
Dorothy searches my face. My nose is red from blowing. And my hair is still wet from my first shower in three days. She looks skeptical of my coolness.

I also just remembered I need a video option, I say. Because I have to record my mad dance floor skillz.

Again, Dorothy looks skeptical.

“Well, this one is a great deal today,” she said, walking over to a selection of waterproof cameras that have been reduced by $50.

“Do you like to snorkel?” she asks.

“I LOVE to snorkel,” I say, already picturing glorious photos of tropical fish taken by yours truly hanging in my living room. (I zip into a small fantasy – “Yes,” I say during a crowded house party. “I took that one while diving The Blue Hole in Belize. What?? You’ve never BEEENNN?”)

Dorothy senses I suddenly have focus.

“Here,” she says. “I’ll show you some of the options.”

“There’s a Facebook option,” she says.

“I LOVE Facebook!”

“And a blog option,” she says.

“I HAVE a blog!”

Of course, all of these options are really just plug the thing into the computer, and load onto XYZ Website. I know this, but am still enjoying watching Dorothy’s fingers work the buttons. Blame Sinutab.

“Look,” she says. “You have this option where you can blur out faces.”

“Do you think I can use it to erase people from my past?” I ask her.

Dorothy laughs. She gets it.

“Here,” she says. “Let me take a picture of us.”

And before I know it, our heads are together and we’re smiling up at a camera Dorothy is holding with some sort of massive Don’t Steal Me gadget attached to it.

The photo is atrocious. Dorothy’s face is flash burned. Her cute blond haircut looks like a birds nest. Meanwhile, all you can see of me is a big, red, Rudolph nose and some slicked-back Mickey Rourke hair.

We collapse in giggles.

“Oh, Dorothy, that is not a good look,” I say.

I thought seriously about asking Dorothy to send me the photo, so I could post it here. But I can’t have that thing circulating the innernets. I still like to go out with a boy every once in a while ya’ll – and that photo would send me straight to dating Syberia.



“Let’s take another one,” she says.

Gaze up. Grin. Click.

“Oh dear lord, it’s much worse,” I say.

We’re in the midst of our second giggle fest of the afternoon, when a woman walks up sporting combed hair and make-up.

“Is that the waterproof Fuji blahty blah?” she asks. (I’m paraphrasing. I think she actually knew the name of the camera, unlike me.)

“Yes,” said Dorothy, then handed her a box. “We were just going over some of the options if you want to join us.”

“No,” the woman said. “I did all my homework online.”

Then she walked away. Just like that. Dorothy and I looked at each other. I kind of felt bad for Ms. Research. She was missing out.

Dorothy then helped me pick out some sort of other doomafligit that I needed, and a cute little camera case that will fit in my evening bag. I was all set. I wanted to hug her. Except I was sick.

“Well, bye,” I said, kind of lingering.

“Bye,” she said.

“I had fun,” I said.

“Me, too,” she answered.

I stood at the cash register and popped in my pin number, glad, as usual, that I was prepared for nothing, ready for anything.

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2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Kel. You made me laugh today. I needed that.

6/27/10, 6:50 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Everything is so much more fun when you're around, silly. So, what is your next purchase? A Discman?

9/4/10, 8:47 PM  

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