Ongoing

Another excerpt from the unwieldy photo essay (those who were in the essay class will have already read this). I think it needs more detail and whatnot. I am going to post a few more excerpts today. I think.

Here:

M and I worked together in a small New York town's attempt at a coffee house, for six dollars an hour plus measly shares of the tip jar (every other week). He was the only boy on staff and when he wasn't around we all made our conjectures about his sexual orientation. He didn't seem gay but he didn't seem all that straight either. Cute, in a distracted pianist kind of way, he was just someone I worked with.

Another coworker was getting married and she invited the entire staff to drive the four hours to Wilmington, Delaware and witness her nuptials. Four of us drove down together in my blue Volvo, listening to Ludacris, Aesop Rock and Phantom Planet. Weddings have a very interesting effect on me. Or maybe it's the alcohol consumed the night before weddings that have an interesting effect. We arrived in Delaware and went to our coworker's rehearsal dinner. We drank wine and white Russians and made friends with people from other wedding parties. M and I found ourselves the last ones up; playing silly games in the hotel hallways and attempting to climb the stairs until we got to the roof. We never got to the roof but we did start a brief non-relationship. We shared the sofa-bed while our other two co-workers slept in the other room. There were Eskimo kisses that led to real kisses and I couldn't believe it was happening. This is true for almost every kiss I've ever had, that I wasn't sure it was going to happen until lips were on lips and hands were on hips, shoulders or wherever. It's a magical thing, realizing you're being kissed by someone you actually want to be kissed by. We returned to our small town and continued 'hooking up' for about a month. It wasn't me that ended it and, though I knew we hadn't been heading in the direction of true courtship, I was sad.

M and I worked different shifts so it was relatively easy not to see him. We were friendly when we did work together but it didn't happen often and then, suddenly, M made plans to leave town. I realized that it would be far easier to track M down for a photograph while he still lived in my vicinity, so I called him and he amiably consented.

Taking M's photograph was probably the hardest. Our non-relationship hadn't been over long and I found myself unable to play the role of C, the confident photographer. I regressed and didn't pay enough attention in framing my photographs or properly reading my light meter. There is one photograph of M, he's standing in front of the big field by his house. The road is in front of M and I'm on the other side, a safe distance away to take his full measure.