"I take photos for the society page of the newspaper."
"Which one?"
"Oh. . . you've probably never heard of it."
"What is the name of it?"
"Uh. . . AfroTimes."
"Bullshit."
"Nope. They send me 'cause I'm white. I'm kinda undercover."
Laughter.
"Well you could do a better job. Why would they want a photo of us?"
"Just for fun. You gotta admit. . . it's funny."
"What is?"
"White people."
"You're full of shit."
"Yea. I was reading the AARP Bulletin, and it said that walking was a great form of exercise and that combining with a hobby like photography could be both fun and healthy, so. . . I decided that's what I'd do. So far it's been fun, but I'm not sure how healthy it is. A lot of people get mad at me and want to beat me up. I just thought since you were already getting photographed, you wouldn't mind."
"Uh-huh."
"I used to have a studio. People came to be photographed. They wanted to be photographed--by me. They liked the way I did it. I gave that up, though, and now I just wander around in the street where people don't want me to take pictures. That part IS funny. It wasn't as much exercise in the studio, but nobody ever got mad at me. Quite the opposite. The world works in strange ways."
"What. . . you were like an Olan Mills or something?"
"You bet. They were pretty much what I was going for, sort of a stilted, awkward picture, strange and unnatural. Kind of like the ones you'd see in their store windows in the mall."
"Yea. . . those were nice."
"Alright then. Good luck to you all. I gotta keep moving or it ain't exercise. . . you know what I mean?"
Sometimes, you just gotta chat people up, you know. They just have to get to know you.
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