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.
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.