Paparazzi

I had a friend put my phone number in his cell phone and then try to take my picture (with said cell phone). I covered my face and said politely, “I don’t like to have my picture taken.” Suddenly it was like I was some drunk starlet on the red carpet — cameras came out everywhere.

I don’t like to have my picture taken. I just don’t. I’ve never liked it, and I only rarely allow it without complaint. I’m not a wanted fugitive, and I don’t believe it will steal my soul. I just don’t like it. Why is this a problem for so many people to accept?

Some people don’t like broccoli. Some people don’t like heights. Some people don’t like a boot kick to the crotch. And when these people say they don’t like it, does everyone around them start piling broccoli on their plate, or hold them over the balcony railing, or line up to kick them in the junk? Of course not. But say you don’t like your picture taken, and you become target number one for every camera within flash range.

This most recent situation had me fending off three cameras, including one video camera. Two of them actually took my picture (one was the video) despite my repeated request for them not to. And, of course, when I got on the verge of anger, they acted like I was being unreasonable. One of them willingly deleted the picture, but the other only did so after I refused to participate with anything until he did so.

I know most people are fine with having their picture taken. I realize it’s some kind of cultural craze, now, for everyone to get their face on TV or YouTube or the Post Office wall. But I just don’t have this instinctive craving to have my face flashed on every electronic display. I’m actually repulsed by the idea. If this makes me a cultural freak, I’m fine with that. What I’m not fine with, and what annoys the hell of me, is when everyone feels the need to jump all over my wishes and take my image against my will.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com