Crack addict or wedding photographer?

Since we are talking about column writing in class, I thought I would post one of my favorite colums: An Awwwsome Wedding by Dave Barry.

One thing he talks about in his column is wedding photographers. I worked for a photographer for 2 years and every weekend we had at least one wedding to shoot (sometimes it was more than one, which just turned into mayhem).

On a normal Thursday working for the photographer I did work for, I would have to get out the all-important checklist of the bride and groom for that weekend. First thing to decide: how many divorces are there? That added 15+ photos. Combine biological Mom and Dad, then biological Mom and stepdad, then biological Dad and Dad’s girlfriend, and then some without Dad’s girlfriend because she’s just a tramp and no one likes her so we are just including her to be nice but we really aren’t going to buy THOSE photos. Second thing to decide: how many illegitimate children are there? My favorite bride and groom had two children each from other relationships, one child together and another one on the way (6 six weeks away from giving birth just FYI). I had to put together so many combinations I thought my brain would ooze out of my eyeballs.

The day of the wedding was different. I absolutely loved the weddings where the wedding party, including parents and grandparents, would get completely schnockered before photos. This was my boss’ worst nightmare but I loved it. Being tipsy made everyone so much easier to work with. Granted, I had to physically help the ladies and gentlemen up to the alter, but after that they didn’t go anywhere. They already had a dumb ass smile on their face from being tipsy so I didn’t have to make lame jokes about the groomsmen to get anyone to smile.

Children, on the other hand, were never drunk so they were a pain in the you know what to pose. I had toys and candy and all sorts of fun stuff strapped to me almost like a tool belt to entertain young kids and make them smile. One wedding had 3-year-old triplet flower girls and one of the girls would not smile to save her life. Her face lit up when I tripped over some light cords and onto a church pew. However, her two other sisters were not paying attention. SO, guess who had to trip over the cords repeatedly to get all three of them to smile and look at the same time?

So as Dave Barry puts it, “if you think it’s easy to make 3-year-olds sit still, smile and not mess up their dresses for long periods, then you are either a crack addict or a wedding photographer.” I totally agree.