[Leica] photographers who do not want to be photographed

[kcassidy at asc.upenn.edu (Kyle Cassidy)]

i was at ye local PLUG meeting last week (we meet every third wednesday at 
'jiggles' -- a strip club under the bridge over by the landfill, if you'd 
like to come, tell Bolt, the biker at the door, that you're with the camera 
club, that way he probably won't mace you, which is usually his response to 
an unfamilar face -- he assumes anyone who's not sweating and twitching is a 
Narc) and while we were doing the portfolio review (usually this is time 
spent flipping through the back pages of the free weekly and comparing the 
photos we'd had published of transvestite hookers and greased models 
advertisng same-sex chat lines and passing around brown paper envelopes 
filled with long-lens telephoto shots of local officials and people not 
their wives) i pulled out my leica and snapped a few photos of the group -- 
one of the PLUGgers lifted her head up from where she had been disgorging 
the contents of her stomache (largely consisting of beer and what appered to 
be whole, undigested "cheetoes") into a bucket and barked at me: "i do not 
appreciate having my photo taken." i burst out into great peals of laughter 
that lasted some long minutes (i can only guess as to how long i actually 
laughed but i do recall that as i began i could hear the first strains of 
'Dazed and Confused' from the 'Song Remains The Same' live album begining 
their weepy tintintabulation on the juke box and by the time i was able to 
dry my eyes and continue we were half way through 'Brown Eyed Girl'). 
"neither does Sean Penn, you twit" i said, "i was actually only pretending 
to take _your_ photo because i didn't want to make you self conscious about 
your truely ghastly apperance, fret not, your grim and horriffic visage will 
not be appearing on the pages of People Magazine, causing children to run 
screaming in terror and old people to wet themselves. move to france, you 
troglodite." i was expecting applause from the other PLUGgers, but the only 
response was a single, extended and racous belch and a call to the bartender 
for more beer, but that's the way things usually go around here.