I had an assignment to shoot on the hill (on the side my grandma did not live on) and I allotted an hour and a half from the time I picked up my grandma to the time I met the man I was shooting a portrait of. I picked my grandma up at 2, and he was scheduled for 3:30.
I picked my grandma up a few minutes before two. My grandma works at the Volunteer Center, which SOUNDS like it would be a bunch of nice old ladies volunteering to run information booths on the 4th of July and owning hundreds of cats collectively.
WRONG.
The Volunteer Center is where you go when you've been court-ordered to do community service. So the entire downstairs floor is a bunch of thugs who have been dethugged (a.k.a. arrested) and now are required to go plant flowers or something. However, the second floor, where my grandma works, is the nice floor. Here they coordinate social functions. I'm not sure what else they do. All I know is that my grandma has way more of a social life than I do. It's sad.
Anyway. So I walk into the Volunteer Center in a lace top (I had come from work to pick her up, so I was dressed up) and I was immediately greeted by a man with grillz.
By the way if you would like to purchase some grillz here you go. They say PIMP and I'm sure you'll score with all the ladies. http://www.bigdawgsbling.com/
Anyway. I went straight upstairs to avoid further contact with GrillzGuy. My grandma was there. It is very strange to come directly from an experience with GrillzGuy to an experience with my grandma. It was a shocking change of scenery. My grandma could probably take GrillzGuy. I know she could outdrink him. She should challenge GrillzGuy in a drink-off.
Anyway
so Grandma and I leave the Volunteer Center and GrillzGuy and get in my car. I am feeling a little uneasy at the caliber of delinquents I have just come in contact with. Grandma is unfazed. That woman is like a rock. She could probably talk Ted Bundy out of killing her. Or talk Alec Baldwin into being a nice person.
Long story short, the drive was uneventful, and I dropped Grandma off at 2:45. It only took me 15 minutes to get where I needed to shoot, so I stopped at 7-11 and bought a Diet Coke and decided to lay on someones lawn and enjoy the gorgeous day.
Now, you may criticize my choice to lay on a random lawn. You might say, what if GrillzGuy lives there? What if he decided I looked at him wrong and GrillzGuy makes me dead? Well, to that I would say, listen to the rest of the story.
After a few minutes driving around I found an unoccupied lawn. I came, I saw, I laid down in the grass and drank my Diet Coke. Peace and freedom y'all. God bless America.
All of a sudden I hear a door open and a VERY ANGRY man voice comes out of it.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHO ARE YOU? GET OFF MY LAWN!! GET OFF! YOU RASCAL! WHO ARE YOU? WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH"
So I explain my circumstance, that I have a short break. The man was holding his chest like he was going to pull a gun right out of his chest. I bet he could have. Like Clint Eastwood or something.
After assuring him I mean no harm, I'm just an intern photojournalist..., he relaxed and shook my hand. Sweet! Is he gonna invite me in for coffee now or something?? (no)
He turns and says,
"I just get nervous because Chuck Norris owns this house, and people come looking for him all the time and only find me. And people get really serious when they can't find Chuck Norris."
Wait... what?
CHUCK NORRIS OWNS THIS HOUSE????
So I told him I didnt believe him. AND HE WENT AND GOT HIS RENTAL AGREEMENT. WITH CHUCK NORRIS' SIGNATURE ON IT.
I laid on Chuck Norris' lawn.
Here I was, hating on this man who was hating on me for laying on his lawn. And he rents his house from CHUCK NORRIS.
There are like a hundred thousand houses in PV. and I picked Chuck Norris'.
My life is a neverending stream of fun.
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