Day 23
A few years ago, my husband and I visited Paris to celebrate
our ten-year wedding anniversary.
I dusted off my high school French and fumbled my way through “Will you
take our photo, s’il vous plait?” in an effort to return home with at least one
frame-worthy photo.
As a tourist of New York City, I wanted nothing less for my
weekend trip with my son.
With Times Square as our backdrop, I glanced around for
someone to take our picture. No
one made eye contact. Yet, oddly,
this did not deter me.
Thinking that all kindness is returned, I walked towards
three woman who were struggling with their camera. They were taking a succession of photos of combinations of
two.
“Can I take your photo?” I mimed clicking a camera. (I learned quickly in Paris that hand signs worked better
than my broken French. Since I
couldn’t determine the women’s country of origin, charades seemed the best
option.)
"Three?" I pointed at the three of them. "Together?" I laced my fingers together in what I hoped indicated together.
“How much?” The
woman asked. She glared at me
suspiciously.
“Ah, free?”
She consulted with her two friends before handing me the
camera.
CLICK. “One
more.” I held up my pointer finger
to indicate I planned to take another photo. Why not? Give
the ladies a little choice!
The women nodded in agreement.
“Yes?” They smiled as I handed the camera back.
“Have a fun day!”
I. and I waved before walking away.
Drats! It was
only down the street that I realized we’d forgotten about our picture.
No worries, we had opportunities all over NYC to repeat this
exchange. Again. And again. And again.
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