While digging through the storage bins of my “desk” “area” (yes, both of those nouns are separately deserving of air quotes), I came across a tiny disposable camera. It was covered in wedding bells and looked suuuper dated, so I knew immediately it was one of my long lost wedding tabletop cameras. (…From nine years ago.)
I knew the quality wasn’t going to be superb. (I mean, I love my nearest and dearest, but put a few glasses of wine in ’em? Not exactly Anselm Adams-worthy scenery. Plus, the camera had a built-in flash. I mean, honestly.) But, as a reward for filing and purging and preserving, I decided to spend a potentially ridiculous amount of money and have it developed.
Feeling proud of my productive li’l self, I took my newly discovered potentially awesome treasure to Walgreens- appreciator of All Things Special, obvie- and headed to the photo counter. The gal stared at my disposable camera and then at me.
“Can I…help you?”
“Yeah, do you develop these here anymore?”
She took the camera. Turned it over. Turned it over again.
“Wow. Wow.”
“It’s a…disposable camera,” I lamely explained. “From my wedding- you know, one of those party favor things on the table…?”
She looked at me like I had announced that I had recently arrived from the Olive Garden on the Moon.
“…Nine years ago,” I helpfully added.
I felt like a specimen. Which was appropriate, since she was looking at me like a specimen. Kindly, though. She was a sympathetic anthropologist.
“I’m going to need to check something.”
She called her boss over.
“Just want you to tell me if I forgot anything,” she told her supervisor. “I checked here and here on the form- it’s a disposable camera.”
They both looked at me.
“Crazy, right?” I laughed. It was starting to feel decidedly not funny.
[Important editor’s note: As it was midday on a lazy Sunday, I hadn’t chosen to fully Get Dressed For the Day. I was wearing an amalgamation of pajama/”loungewear,” winter gear, and a hat which was fooling nobody at all. So in case you were wondering if my general demeanor was doing anything to dissuade a general Crazy Lady attitude, my answer is: …No.]
“Do you have a pen?” The photo gal asked her boss.
“No, let me find one.”
She called over a third co-worker, who handed her a pen while staring at the camera.
“It’s disposable,” the first woman said. “Her wedding photos.”
“Whaaat…”
“Nine years ago,” I felt it important to add.
Three faces turned and gave me A Look.
“It was…a tabletop camera…”
It got fairly quiet. I gave the rest of my information and was informed that I’d receive my photos back within 2-4 weeks. (Which felt refreshingly and nostalgically old-fashioned, just like me.)
I went back home.
And decided to shelve the plans of backing up audio cassettes onto new tapes.
(At least for the day.)
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