photography tale: dont take that photo
I've had people wave me off, signalling that they didn't want me to take their photo. That's fine. But having a hand thrust in front of my camera is a different story.
So what. Why was I trying to take a photo of a gas station, right?
It was during the blackout that struck much of central and eastern North America in the summer of 2003. I had been at work, and when the power failed I decided to go see how the city was coping. It was the middle of the afternoon, and it was Toronto the (formerly) Good, where one encounters a certain degree of law and order (along with the constant complaining and general unhappiness) and I wasn't expecting riots and looting. But it was still going to be worth a look.
One of the last things I decided to photograph was a gas station attendant selling off the frozen goods before they went bad. A fine idea, given the heat. For the snacks were sure to spoil, and there was certainly no shortage of buyers. With the subways inoperative, the streets were packed with thousands of commuters, all on foot.
But the attendant didn't like the idea. He dashed out of the frame, then started shouting at me. I took the photo, but not before he got his hand into the frame.
Then I stood up and he saw how big I was, and any potential confrontation was over. Same as it usually is.
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