Troy is a bit intimidated by the idea that
guys would be drawn to the construction scene shoot if I get out of
the car. He insists that I stay put. Inside. Knowing how guys on a construction
site are.....
I am in a tankini and shorts. Enough incentive.
And then he would get ragged on.
I agree to stay in the car. Must keep him
happy after all.
So we run around town in the green machine
scouting out a location for a non-invasive local - where we won't disturb
the crew and where we have a nice background.
He will be in jeans and oiled up. I have
the spray bottle and the baby oil.
And clothes pins.
Just in case.
We grab lunch and then we head over to true
value to get gloves and a sledge hammer.
A BIG sledge hammer. His buddy didn't have
one we could use.
Not handy anyway.
There is a shop girl, young, black, who
totally loses it. Eyes like saucers she watches him for a few minutes,
(almost drooling) and then comes and asks me "Is that your son?"
Burst my bubble!
She liked him.
They had to push her to another part of
the store to get her back to work.
Literally.
We power shop - I am fast, fast, fast. We
find yellow leather gloves (Troy has now learned that primary colors
work well) and the biggest sledge hammer that they have (about 3' long
for the handle).
We then take off back to the construction
site.
Warm Up - Lifting Cement Blocks
I stay in the car - but I can photograph
him out the back door (not changing - I am polite) but when I can get
a glimpse. They leave the motor running so I don't bake.
We draw a lot of attention anyway.
Troy flexing gets every woman driving into
the parking lot (backs up on the construction site - right across from
the place where they had the bikini contest).
I am wearing his jean jacket (one of them)
- having shed my tee shirt and bra after the pool shot (it was hot)
and then we had lunch - and I grabbed a jacket to keep from freezing.
Nice fit.
It got cooler as soon as we finished lunch.
Of course.
I am not redressing. I like the jacket.
He watches me closely - he wants it back.
Ron is eyeing another one. We had several in the car for use in the
backyard shots.
Bring everything - what the heck.
My younger son could learn a lot - Troy
IRONED everything and PUT IT ON HANGERS.
Did you hear me kids???
Well trained!
Wish my boys were!
(I tried! Really, I did!
Even bought a new iron. And demonstrated
its use! Several times!)
It is now necessary to put baby oil and
water on the boy.
I ready towels for after.
I behave. Well, as best I can.
I don't get to oil him up (we are in a hurry.......)
I watch though!
I shoot from inside the car.
The guys by now know what I want.
Flex things! Everything visible!
No shirt.
They go off and I can't see! I do get a
glimpse of Troy pumping up with cinder blocks. One-handed lifts. I've
lifted those. I need two hands. And short distances.
He lifts to get his veins popping so the
shoot will look good. A lot of work to do this.
They are behind stuff so I sit and wait.
And watch the parking lot attendant scowl and the women drool.
One blond nearly walks into a pothole.
Must be good.
Troy attracts attention wherever he goes
so it's "shoot it quick". Before a hard hat runs us off.
I write notes to myself.
Breathe girl.
Just breath.
Boy, there is nothing around that comes
close to this guy -and I have been looking.
Can't wait to see the photos.
We proof one set per day - random selection
to check focus, etc.
I have six (6) rolls of 35mm being developed
just of my little shots.
Fabulous!
Every guy parking his car is now staring.
I hear pounding (on a board?) - the sound
tells me they hit it but not hard enough to break it. Enough for action.
Troy has worked construction after all (built 41, 42 houses).
Thru the fence - and setting up (I was in the car)
While I wait, I catch up my writing.
The guys were ragging on me earlier - telling
me that the problem with women is that we read all the romance novels
and expect guys to "do all that stuff" .
Yes, we do.
We then "get mad when they don't".
Yes, we do.
And then we "want to talk". (Vent, the word
is vent.)
After I've had enough of this I advised
them that PMS is on me and chocolate had better be nearby.
Cafe mocha decaf and chocolate. Tools to
please me. (Note: I had my coffee every morning thereafter. No arguments.
Men over 30 know that we mean business when we say PMS - and arguments
are futile.)
Pick on me!
Of course, they are aware that I am writing.
Of course I am.
"You'll make this look like fun and games."
Of course I will.
We are all (all three) exhausted from the
tension and heat (although we are doing better after the lunch break
at Boston Market) - revived a bit - but with 80 degree muggy heat and
flex and bend - it all adds up.
I am scrabbling around inside the car -
the early morning beach hikes do wonders for flexibility - I am a pretzel
climbing over the seats in tiny shorts, tankini and barefoot.
Troy comes back and changes into the bib
overalls. Oh, just too cute! He poses for me in the doorway.
Ron is liking the location. (New expression.)
Troy is beaming (good!).
They run off to do more.
I know he is tired but this is a good day.
A lot of outfits. A lot of set-ups.
Busy. Busy. Busy.
I want to watch him at work tonight at the
club - so I have the "mood" for those photos tomorrow - and I need cigarettes
so I can light up from his flaming fly when we do the actual bar shoot.
Just to annoy my sons.
Heck, it's my "vacation" - gotta have a
little fun!
