Ok let's try this again. I broke my cardinal rule of blogging last night which is "write drunk, edit sober" (I'll let you guess what part of that rule I broke * hint * duh) so now, in the light of day, with a clear head, I am back to bring you those "modeling" photos I talked about in this post.
Here's the backstory real quick:
A few years ago, Rob and I went to the Dominican Republic. It was basically the worst vacation ever. A whole bunch of chaos ensued (you can read about it here) but one particular event really took the cake. We were hanging out on the beach, relaxing, minding our own biz, when a man walks up and asks if he can take our photo. Since I'm used to people asking to take my picture on the beach in my bikini all the time, I said "sure!", posed a little pose and the camera man showed me the photo he had taken. "Cute!" I exclaim, and then I make the grave mistake of rambling off the following: "I love pictures! I always take tons and tons of photos while on vacation but my camera got stolen the first night we were here and I'm just so sad because seriously dude you have no idea how much I love pictures and especially pictures of myself on vacation on the beach in my bikini. Help me I'm poor."
Like a moth to a flame, my lips to a vodka bottle and a liberal to an unnecessary cause, local camera man saw a door wide open and he ran with it. Hard and fast. "Well then, let me just take a few more pictures of you pretty girl!" and he then begins to instruct me and Rob to "put your arm around his neck right there, slowly lean into your wife, yes yes, just like that, now look into each others eyes, sloooooowly come in for a kiss, ok good now you get down on one knee, wife you lean behind him and slowly caress his neck with your hand."
Um.
WTF?
See, if you know Rob and I at all, we are most definitely not the lovey-dovey, look into each others eyes romantic couples photos on the beach kind of people. I felt very awkward and oh yes, extremely embarrassed as there were hundreds of other people on the beach with us. Staring. I can just imagine what they must have been saying under their breath, things like "who do these kool kats think they are? Brad and Angelina? Ha!" and "oh wow, talk about secondhand embarrassment for those poor saps."
You might be wondering why I didn't just say no, walk away, stop the madness. Because I am a people pleaser at the core. I hate saying no, and I feel bad inside when I disappoint others. Doesn't matter if I've never met the dude with the camera on the beach, he asked (very intently) to take my picture. In my bikini. And I just couldn't deny him that opportunity.
Great! Couples photoshoot is over! Phew.
Nope.
"Let me take picture of you? Only you? Please? Just one. Only one! Promise. Pretty please?!"
f*ck.
So I did. The instructions that I got from him were nothing short of what a soft p*rn directer might say. Lay down on the sand like this, run your fingers through your hair like that, look into the distance, chest out (I swear) and so on.
I'm not even going to go into how I got suckered into buying the printed from a home printer, grossly over-photoshopped photos on thin glossy paper for $80. If you don't already, you would definitely think I was the silliest thing to ever walk this Earth.
In an effort to redeem myself, I will now show you those photos.
* snort *
I'm pretty sure this is the same photo as the one above, just flipped horizontally, in which he tried to sell me both photos seperately.
this one is my favorite.
We're sexy and we know it.
Or something like that.
When I reverted my original post this morning back to draft,
I accidentally deleted all previous comments. Sorry :(
