H
hockeybeat
Guest
The other day, I had to get pictures taken for my new passport. I wasn't looking forward to it because I really haven't ever had a good picture taken of me. Maybe it's because I'm baby-faced. Maybe it's because I end up looking down on the camera. But with every photo, it looks like I'm auditioning for a police line or FOX's "People Who Should Wear A Paper Bag Over Their Heads."
Anyway, I go and get the photos taken while running errands. I didn't have a good feeling about them, and it only got worse when the photog said, "Uh oh" as he was developing them. Nothing gets past me.
Despite my natural curiosity, I don't look at them. Instead, when I got home and Sis 'Beat is waiting on me. I give her the envelope and ask her to take a look at them. There was silence, then stammering before she asked, "Uh, were you in a fight?"
No.
"Did you play hockey?"
It's a 100 degrees out. Where am I going to play hockey?
And then it dawns on me. What's wrong with the photos?
"Uh, HB, both sides of your face are bruised in the photos and it looks like your nose is broken in the first one."
That's funny, since I've never suffered a broken nose and haven't been in a fight in who-knows-how-long. So, I steal my first glance at them and there I was, in my less-than-photogenic despair. These weren't headshots. They were a plea for help.
Anyway, I go and get the photos taken while running errands. I didn't have a good feeling about them, and it only got worse when the photog said, "Uh oh" as he was developing them. Nothing gets past me.
Despite my natural curiosity, I don't look at them. Instead, when I got home and Sis 'Beat is waiting on me. I give her the envelope and ask her to take a look at them. There was silence, then stammering before she asked, "Uh, were you in a fight?"
No.
"Did you play hockey?"
It's a 100 degrees out. Where am I going to play hockey?
And then it dawns on me. What's wrong with the photos?
"Uh, HB, both sides of your face are bruised in the photos and it looks like your nose is broken in the first one."
That's funny, since I've never suffered a broken nose and haven't been in a fight in who-knows-how-long. So, I steal my first glance at them and there I was, in my less-than-photogenic despair. These weren't headshots. They were a plea for help.