By
C. A. Passinault, a professional model portfolio photographer from Tampa Bay,
Florida
©
Copyright 2001-2005 Independent Modeling. All rights reserved.
WEB VERSION
- PRINT VERSION
"One
can never tell what lies behind closed doors."
-C. A.
Passinault
December, 2001
The day was not unlike a spring day.
The air was brisk, but the breeze was pleasant. The shops that lined the storefronts
were busy with business. There was a plethora of people. The jaded wife. The
window shopper, which wasn't always the case because the mark downs at the
storefront gave leverage to temptation. The scrutinized, but well dressed,
businessman. Some gentlemen moved from shop to shop in packs, the pecking
order from the office hitchhiking along for lunch. Their dress was haughty,
and their manner derived. The still, blue sky presented a contrast to the
constant motion of the people.
It wasn't spring, however. The climate was deceiving. It was the dead of winter.
The glass iris jockeyed for position. A prone, slender figure reflected like
a silhouette off of the lense. A thin finger went down on the plastic button.
A pair of hands braced the small, metal frame for the shot.
"That will be a great picture!"
One of the business man spoke from within his group.
Another press of the button. A wince. The rude suit moved on with its pack.
The camera came down. A smile.
"We got the shot. Ready for lunch?"
"Yes, I am".
The restaurant was more organized. Large windows let in the clear light, and
well dressed people made small talk among the subdued music that was playing.
The hostess was accommodating.
"Table for two." The gentleman said, slipping the camera into a
bag.
"Smoking or none smoking?"
He looked over at his companion. She was tall, with a slender build. Her presence
was elegant. She was quite striking.
He forwarded the inquiry. "It's up to you."
She smiled, and looked at the hostess. "Smoking, please."
The hostess looked around the room. "It will be one moment."
A group of people moved toward the exit. A girl maneuvered from the flock
and approached them. She was quick to speak.
"You ever think of modeling? There's this photographer, right over there,
who'd love to shoot you. Here's his card."
He was briefly surprised. "A photographer? Where?"
The girl handed the card to his companion. She avoided eye contact with him.
The model took the card, and looked it over, turning it over in her hand.
"He's across the street, on the second floor." The girl finally
looked at him, "He's really good, too."
The model smiled. "I already have photographers."
The girl wedged in. "There are so many in this area that aren't that
good. He's from New York, and he's now here in Ybor. You're just the girl
that he's looking for."
He interjected, playing to her point. He chimed in, smiling at the model.
"She's right. There are a lot of photographers who aren't that great
around here. Maybe this guy is really talented."
The girl looked at him. "You're her photographer?"
"Yes. For the moment."
He took out the camera and fired off a preview on the display. He quickly
returned it to its nest.
The girl re composed herself. She turned to the model again. "Oh. Well,
you have his card. Feel free to give him a call."
She left as quickly as she had come.
They looked at the card. The face of it had a picture of a car with some people
in it. It was a convertible, and appeared to be going down a street toward
the viewer. It was also dreadfully out of focus.
She shrugged. "What is this?"
"The girl is cashing in on referrals, no doubt." He mused, "Looks
interesting, though."
The pair were escorted to a table. He smiled at her en route. "See, did
I tell you? You are such an incredible model that everyone notices".
She smiled back. "Thank you."
They took their seat. He continued.
"That was kind of rude of her, though."
"Yes, it was. How often does that happen?"
He removed his jacket and placed the camera with it at his side in the booth.
He relaxed.
"A few times. Once I was at a Hops in Brandon with a model. We had some
of her prints out on the table, and were looking them over. The waitress came
up, and during the conversation told her that if she booked with a photographer,
she would be a great model. I was like, ‘hello! What do you think these
are?'".
She laughed.
"You know, this restaurant has one of my prints. I was here with a model
last January, we took a few pictures here, and I brought them the best print
six weeks ago. I don't know what they did with it."
She looked around. "You didn't see it in here?"
"So far, no. Want to hear something that could have been cool, though?"
"Yeah, sure!"
"Wouldn't it have been cool if it was up over the hostess station at
the door? When the girl came up to us, I could have pointed it out, and said
"That's one of my prints."
She laughed. "That would have been cool."
"Well, I don't see it anywhere."
He looked over at his bag, and continued.
"Working with a photographer, though, she would have known what a camera
bag looks like."
"Right? Rude girl."
"It's like the movies, and the events that we work on. I always seem
to run into people like that girl when I'm out with my talent. They always
seem to insult me in some way. It doesn't happen that often, though. I find
that everyone has their distinct opinion, and when they are financially motivated,
manners go out the window. It's like they don't see the whole picture, and
they try to move in on what we have going on."
"It just show's their lack of talent."
He paused, reflected. "I just wish that picture would have been on the
wall in here."
"True." She added, "But people tend to go by what they see
in front of them, and not for the great things that aren't always apparent."
They took their time and had lunch. Upon thanking the staff and exiting the
restaurant, the model went into the restroom to change into her next set of
clothes. He waited for her outside the indoor entrance area, and looked down
a staircase for inspiration. There had to be an angle there.
The hostess was watching him, and called him back inside.
"What is it that you do?"
He smiled. "Oh, I work with models, among other things."
He presented a card. The hostess' eyes lit up. She recognized a picture on
the card.
"Oh, you're that photographer! We have one of your pictures."
He looked around. "Where?"
She smiled, accepting the card from him. "It's framed, and is up in the
back office. I really love it! We all do!"
He smiled, and glanced beside him. The model had returned, and was by his
side again. "Are you ready to shoot?"
The model motioned toward the outer doors. "Always."
He returned his attention to the hostess. "Thank you very much. Have
a great day, ok?"
"You two have a merry Christmas!"
They left the restaurant, and returned to work. "You know what?"
"What is that?" The model replied.
"That was really cool. It wasn't obvious, but it was there the entire
time."
"She really liked your work. I do, too."
He brought out the camera. Now, if only they could top that framed picture.
In the end, they did.
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