Share My Pain

With a 72-hour turn on an out of state photography job and a myriad of other assignments to accomplish simultaneously, I decided to outsource the commercial photography to a local contractor. Fortunately, on my last trip to Backwater, KS, I grabbed a phone book -- approximately half the size of a Ludlum novel and twice as interesting. Time ticking deafeningly away, I threw open the yellow pages to find only two commercial photographers in the greater Backwater area: Maynard's Photography and Melvin's Photography. I contacted them alphabetically.

"Hello," came the woman's raspy voice.

"Oh, um... Sorry... I thought I was calling a place of business."

"Who you tryin' to reach?"

"Maynard's Photography?"

"Yep. You found it."

"OK... Well, I need a commercial photograph taken at 1412 Main--"

"Hold on," she sighed, "I'll git him for ya."

Without cupping a hand over the receiver she rattled, "Mayn! Phone!" From rooms away I could hear the echo of the sweet song of lifelong marital bliss, "Well, who is it woman?"

"I don't know. Someone about a photo." He offered muffled retort, then I heard her reply, "Well, what you want me to tell him?" She sighed back into my ear, "Hold on, mister. He's coming."

I kid you not when I tell you I held on for five minutes. Five minutes in which I could have accomplished two other tasks. Five minutes in which I could have responded to critical emails. Five minutes in which I could have used another phone to call the other photographer. Five minutes which swirled to a disturbing end with the sound of a flushing toilet in the receiver. "What can I do you for," was his warm, heartland greeting.

I began giving him specifics of the job, until he interrupted, "Hold on there, young fella. Let's back up a bit. Where-all you want?"

"Where what?"

"Where-all you want to shoot?"

"Oh. Backwater."

"Backwater?! Why, that's a good 50 miles from here. I'm in Hutchins."

"You're in their phone book."

"Hm. Not sure how that happened."

"Can you make the trip," I asked.

"Well... I s'pose so. What for?"

"What-- for the job. The job, man. Do you want the job?"

"I dunno. What for?"

I was lost. Fast money seemed enough of a motivator to me. "What do you mean what for?"

"What thing you wantin' me to go to Backwater for?"

"A high school. I need a photo of Backwater High School."

"For what?"

I was beginning to lose my patience. This was a competitive bid job for a rather large high school renovation, and I didn't want Maynard privy to too much information. "That's not important."

"Well, maybe if you'd tell me more about it I'd have a better understanding of what-all you need."

"I need you to shoot primarily the front of the school, but catch it at an angle from southwest to northeast at about 4 p.m. to provide the right shadows and--"

"Wait. What's this for?"

Oh Jayzus, "Fine. It's for a proposal."

"Ohhhhhh..." I could hear the scratch of his whiskers and the creak of his neck as he nodded his head, now fully endowed with higher understanding. "OK then. A pra-posuhl."

I gave him the rest of the specifics and reiterated that I needed a fast turn time: back in my hands within 72 hours. "Well," he sighed, "I'm still workin' with 35," he said.

"35? 35mm? Process film?"

"Yeah -- just don't really want to give up control over the image, you know?"

"No."

"I've been thinkin' 'bout switchin', though. Del over there in Hutchins, he switched."

"Really. Listen, Maynard: I need the shots taken, proofs sent, any touchup work done and the finals in my hands in 72 hours."

"Ohh..." His neck creaked in a side to side motion now, "Well, I don't work with the labs I used to, back in the day. Don't rightly know if they're still in business. You know, ol' Ed, he mighta made the switch. In fact, I'm pretty sure he did. 'Course, he only ever did this stuff part time. He lives there in Crooked Knee. I could give you his number..." oh my God oh my God oh my God, "But Burt -- yeah, Burt made the switch a few years back.. right there in Backwater, too."

"OK. Excellent. Give me Burt's number."

"Don't know as that'd help you much."

"Why not?"

"Burt's dead."

"I--- forget it. Look, can you do the job or not, Maynard?"

"How you going to get the photos in your hands in three days, young man?"

"You're going to send them to me."

"Even with overnight mail," (you get overnight service there?) "It'll still take a day to shoot it, and two days to process it."

"Email me digital proofs."

"Ohhh...." I could hear him nodding again, "You probably need this sent to you on that innernet thing, huh? Well, I s'pose I could go to the Kinkos over in Hogwash an' maybe they can--"

"Hey Maynard?"

"Yes?"

"I'll call back if I still need you."

Fifteen minutes lost, I hurriedly called the remaining photographer, located somewhere in Hiccup, Kansas. "Hello?" C'mon... who answers business phones like this?

"Sorry... I thought I was calling Melvin's Photography."

"Yup."

"Oh. Okay... Umm... is Melvin there?"

"Nope."

"Is Melvin coming back anytime soon?"

"Yup."

"Can you have him call me, please?"

A sigh. "Awright."

I imparted my name, number, location of the job and mentioned that I needed this within 3 days. She moaned, "Oh. Oh no."

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"Can he do it?"

"Dunno. I'll have him call you."

This was yesterday.

...