Well, honestly, she started as an assistant, and she was ok. After a while, she retired for the reasons stated.
I called all 5 of my regular assistants, none could make it. I even called a couple of pros who are friends on the off-chance they weren't working. I had no choice...I couldn't do it alone. It was either her or my mom. Bear in mind I'm telling you about things the clients and guests didn't see. All they knew is that I could barely walk. All I heard from them was that I was doing a great job, and that they were very thankful that I was working so hard. From their perspective, I was a trouper. I *did* get everything they'll need, and I know they'll be happy. Furthermore, #7 knows not to engage in any girlfriendy stuff on the job. They couldn't tell. tv > -----Original Message----- > From: T Rittenhouse [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] > Sent: Sunday, June 29, 2003 1:59 PM > To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] > Subject: Re: ouch > > > You don't even get a little sympathy from me on this, Tom. > That is not an > assistant, that is a girlfriend. The two are not > interchangable. Good > photographic assistants are hard to find. There is a > potential grilfriend in > every bar. Getting them confused is not very professional. > > Ciao, > Graywolf > http://pages.prodigy.net/graywolfphoto > > > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "tom" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> > To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> > Sent: Sunday, June 29, 2003 1:42 PM > Subject: RE: ouch > > > > Jeez, what a day. > > > > A little background. #7 had been retired for a while. > Basically, she's > > not really cut out for assisting. She likes going to weddings, but > > she's not particularly interested in working them. I get a lot of > > this: > > > > http://www.bigdayphoto.com/images/ashiInChurch.jpg > > > > So, while I'm hobbling around trying to find the sundry crap she's > > left in various pews, she's weepily enjoying the proceedings. > > > > Anyway, things got off to a bad start as she was running > late. I get > > really antsy when I'm running late. I've never actually > *been* late, > > because I give myself so much extra time, but I was > getting jumpy. So, > > we started snapping at each other. > > > > We get there on time, but I'm uptight, #7 is sulky. The bride has > > forgotten to bring her list of family shots. There's a > divorce, which > > generally complicates this sort of thing. I start shooting. > > > > Ceremony goes off fine, the bright spot of the day was a very cool > > minister. My ankle has loosened up a bit, so I'm not hobbling too > > ridiculously. Family photos go twice as long as they > should, but we > > get them done. > > > > Head off to the reception. Talk to the catering lady, ask her very > > nicely if she could serve us early. Generally, vendors get served > > last, if at all, which is a pain as I would be getting my > meal as the > > bride and groom are finishing theirs. She says ok, but > I'll have to > > wait by the kitchen. There's nowhere to sit, so I stand. > > > > 40 minutes later, at 8:55, I'm still standing there on my > throbbing > > ankle. I haven't eaten in 5 hours, my blood sugar has > dropped through > > the floor, my ankle is killing me - I've now crossed a > line, and am > > now officially in a bad mood. First dance is at nine. The > food (bad) > > finally arrives. I find a place to eat, put the plate down, the DJ > > announces that the first dance will start after the current song. > > > > This place is now on my shit list. > > > > The reception proceeds. About 20 minutes before the end, > the bride and > > groom decide it's time to leave. I'm in the middle of something > > else...the card in the camera is full, so I hand it to > #7, tell her to > > put a new one in. I follow the couple as they're making > their way to > > the limo with camera #2. > > > > #7 walks up, says she can't get the card in. I take the > card, slide it > > in, and notice something feels wrong. I take a > look...she's bent the > > one of the pins. CF cards are designed so you can't > insert them the > > wrong way, but...well, there it is. > > > > I'm pissed, say a few obscenities under my breath. She takes it > > personally - we have an quiet argument, which escalates > into a louder > > argument in the car, I sleep on the couch. > > > > Of course we're out of beer when we get home. > > > > *Lovely* day. > > > > BTW, here's what my ankle looked like when I got home: > > > > http://www.bigdayphoto.com/images/ankle1.jpg > > http://www.bigdayphoto.com/images/ankle2.jpg > > > > You knew there was a foot shot in your future. > > > > tv > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
