Photo booth

I treated myself recently. I bought a portable photo booth to use for pictures of smaller things, things that won’t fit on a dress form, and for closeups of things that do. I got it online, and when it arrived it was zipped into this neat little flat zip-top pouch. It’s like one of those sunscreens people put inside their car’s windshield to help keep the inside of the car from getting quite so hot. You know the ones. You grab the corners, or the sides, or somewhere, in exactly the right place, and give it a good twist, then it’s small, round, and flat again. Perfect for tucking under your seat when not in use. I’ve known a number of people who never could get theirs folded up again, and so always had these unwieldy things in the backseat.

photo booth bag

I removed the white booth from its black bag, and went into Dave’s office with it. I wanted there to be someone in the world who knew, who had actually seen, that the booth had started out that small. Look, Dear, see what I have. We opened it up. Actually, I pretty much just let go of it, and poof! it was big, a large white rectangle with a metal frame around the perimeter. The next part was pretty easy, too. I let go of part of one side, and it fell open. It took us a couple minutes to figure out how to turn this two-sided thing into a cube. Oh. Pull here. Firmly. Next thing you know, poof! (again). It’s a cube. Hm. There’s a slit. Ah, but that bit comes off easily. Velcro. Let’s try to make it smaller again. Push here. Harder. There it goes. Snap. Now it’s back to the two-sided shape, fold. Easy.

[soliloquy slug=”photo-booth”]

I tried a couple of times to make it small and round again. No dice. I don’t want to break it, ruin it. Perhaps I’ll just forget that part, and toss it into the backseat as is.

She is delightfully chaotic; a beautiful mess. Loving her is a splendid adventure.
—Steve Maraboli—