Tired, belly full, and I still had to take a photograph. I tried to get an image of the moon and the stars out where my parents lived. The experiment was a little too taxing for my poor 1000D. A neighbor honked as I played with the tripod. I felt the fool. I figured some shot at home would have to suffice.
I stopped to get gas. Under this solitary street lamp was a pay phone. A pay phone, a dead or dying breed of communication. I filled my tank, drove around to the side of the building nearest the pay phone and decided to try to capture something.
“Excuse me sir? Is there something wrong with my pay phone?” a voice said behind me, startling the crap out of me.
“Uh, um. I must look like a complete weirdo,” I muttered, like a kid caught stealing. There was a pause. The owner didn’t seem satisfied. “I’m doing this photo a day project and just wanted to grab a shot of the pay phone.”
Sort of blank stare, then a smirk. I am a weirdo, I realized. The guy walked on with a bag of trash and pitched it.
So, my first run in with someone as I took a shot as well.