A Reason Never to Go Out.

I had to get my picture taken today in one of those booths with a curtain across so nobody can see you looking stupid. (They should really have a soundproofed door so nobody can hear you scream.) I followed all the prompts, and pressed all the right buttons, and paid the unearthly fee of £8, and tried to look intelligent, and then went outside and waited for my little strip of pictures to appear. Eventually they did, and I soon wished they hadn’t.

I know these booths never take pictures which might be described as flattering, and I know I’m older than the last time I used one, and I know I look like a cross between Quasimodo and Golum these days, but I still wasn’t prepared for what I saw there. ‘Do I really look that terrible?’ I asked myself. ‘Possibly not,’ I answered, ‘but you never know.’

I knocked on the cabinet in hope of being able to complain to the little person with the camera, but nobody appeared. I expect they’ve been told to stay still and very quiet until the disgruntled customer slinks dejectedly away, and that’s what I did eventually.

If I could be certain that nobody ever looks at this blog I might be tempted to post the picture here, but there’s evidence to suggest that about three people still do so they’ll just have to imagine it.