Storytime: My High School Senior Picture

Let me tell you the story behind this picture.

I was a senior in high school from 1997 to 1998. For like the entire HISTORY of this school (George Rogers Clark, go Pioneers I guess) the Yearbook Committee used the same photographer to take the Senior's pictures every year. Their shop was within super walking distance to my house and they had a great reputation and took phemonial photos.

Except in 1997. The committee went with someone else. Someone who only had a shop for a few years, NEVER took high school photos, and was two towns away. The woman in charge of the yearbook committee was:

A-The same teacher in charge of the school newspaper in which I was also on.
B-The biggest bitch I have ever seen so as a result she:
C-Didn't like me a whole lot.

So since I saw her every day, she would harass me about when I was going to this photographer's place to get my photo in to her because THE DEADLINE IS COMING UP HOLY FUCK THE DEADLINE! IF YOUR PICTURE ISN'T IN BY THIS DAY, FUCK YOU KID YOU WON'T BE IN THE YEARBOOK! I said I was OK with not being the yearbook cause I hated this teacher and I frankly wasn't a fan of this school as a whole so if it appeared I didn't exist at this school, all the better for me. But no, she didn't want to do that, she wanted EVERYONE to be in this yearbook cause I don't know.

As I stated, this was 1997 and the photographer was two towns away so I had to get my dad to take me there. And because it's 1997, we had no idea where it was and we couldn't Google it. So thanks to some outdated things like a phone book, an actual map, and word of mouth, we scheduled a date and time and found the place, which was in the mythical area known as Downtown Hammond.

If you're from Hammond, you know the word "downtown" doesn't mean the same as other cities downtown. Most cities downtown is a bustling hub of people and buildings and businesses and homeless people. Downtown Hammond was 99% empty buildings and maybe one homeless person named Jack.

But sure enough, nestled in a building was the only photography studio on this desolate block. We parked, I grabbed the suit I was wearing (I was told not to wear it while on the way so it doesn't get wrinkled. As you'll find out, that wouldn't have mattered.) and we headed in...to be greeted by the barest photography studio I've ever seen in my life. There were no chairs in the "waiting area" the walls were bare and there was nobody around. I knew we made the appointment for 3PM and it was 2:55 and the doors were open.

I also was having a bad day as well. This was a school day and besides dealing with the typical day I had at school (ha ha it's funny you took a book I was reading and threw it down the hallway I'm laughing hysterically, sure girl I have a crush on and I asked to prom I'll take your laughing in my face to mean a maybe get back at me when you know for sure tux's sure are expensive, sorry I got in your way by merely existing, I'll work on that in the future) my dad was extra stressing me out about not knowing where this place was and the whole thing with my suit. So what happened next didn't help any at all.

Suddenly a door opens up and I swear to GOD the real life version of Jesse Tyler Fergeson's character on Modern Family came out wearing a white tank-top, a flowery silk robe, pink slippers, huge hipster glasses, a big red beard, and puffs of red hair on either side of his head. Again, 1997, this dude was super ahead of the curve. And he was flamboyantly gay, which I only mention to set the scene because out of everything else that happened, this was the one thing I was OK with.

The room the photographer came out of was the bathroom and he took the biggest shit of his life, to the point where the smell was wafting out into the "studio". He said "oh hey...sorry! I was preoccupied! Are you my 3 o'clock?" I confirmed that I was and asked if he had a changing room so I can change into my suit and get this over with. He goes "Oh...no. Most people normally come in dressed how they want to look. You can use the bathroom though."

So the options were to get undressed in the middle of this bare studio with this stranger and my dad watching me or in this bathroom that was the container for the unholiest smells ever imagined. I figured I could hold my breath for as long as it took to get dressed so into the bathroom I went.

You know that scene in Tommy Boy where Chris Farley is trying to get changed in the airplane bathroom? That was literally me. This bathroom was the same size as an airplane bathroom and I had to get a whole suit on. Finally, after 5 minutes, 2 of which I wasn't breathing and the rest breathing in noxious fumes, I burst out of the bathroom, gasping for air. The photographer, meanwhile, was setting up the lights and the chair I would be sitting on, along with a box I was to either prop my hands on or put a prop of my own.

"So, what backdrop do you want? This black one was from the last student."

I said the black one was fine.

"You sure? There's 10 different ones to choose from."

Nope, black is fine.

"OK, did you bring anything fun that shows your personality to have in the picture with you? A student bought a stuffed Elmo doll cause he's really into Elmo! And a girl had her pom-poms!"

Maybe this guy regrets this now so I'm hiding his identity. Your welcome "guy".

I didn't know we could do that. The teacher who told me to do this doesn't like me so didn't mention it to me, I just bought this suit that I don't even like wearing.

"Oh...ok. You know, you could've not put the pants on, I'm only taking your picture from the waist up!"

Thanks for telling me now, that would've saved me 2 extra minutes of not breathing in your ass fumes. Let's just get this over with.

So he goes OK SMILE! and I smile and he takes 2 pictures and says "You want to do something different?" I say "No, are we done?" He says "No...I gotta take 10 so you can pick the best one!" and I say "Fine" and I stay the same pose for all 10 pictures because I super hate life and want to die and/or take everyone down with me.

Note, the smell in the bathroom is now all over the "studio" and my dad has opted to go wait outside in the car. And of course I couldn't just leave while wearing the suit, I had to go back into the pit of hell and change BACK into my normal clothes, which didn't take quite as long this time since I had the art of changing clothes in a tiny ass room down to an exact science by this point.

A few months later, the teacher says it's my turn to pick the picture I want for the year book and she showed me all 10 pictures and I swear to you they were all exactly the same, with maybe different varying degrees of smiles. I kinda chuckle to myself and pick one that I think looks the best out of the 10 and she sighed cause of how all 10 pictures looked, made a comment about me being original, and took the one I picked and gave it to the student who was formatting the yearbook. And now anytime anyone sees my high school senior yearbook photo, they kinda give me shit but they don't know the horrible truth behind the black background, the forced smile, and stupid look on my face.

Until now.
-Jason

PS: I heard through the grapevine this was the only year the yearbook committee went with this photographer, the next year they went BACK to their normal one. *thumbs up*