So this weekend we hung Christmas ornaments, made peppermint brownies, watched “Love Actually,” and may or may not have photo-bombed a New York Times story accidentally on purpose.
What, that’s not how you celebrate the holidays? Weird.
Anyway, on Friday we went out for a drink at a bar in downtown Hoboken. You know, just doing our part to boost the local economy since the storm. Also, they have $1 beers during happy hour.
So while we were sitting there observing how empty it was for a Friday night and commenting on how sad it was to see so many businesses struggling with the lack of foot traffic since the train is still in repair, CB noticed some guy with a camera outside of the bar taking pictures.
|"Hi New York Times! I'm|
Becky Amos! Spelled B-e-c...why
are you walking away? Weird."
Sidebar: something you should probably know about me: I’m kind of a ham. I mean, there are times I definitely don’t want you to take my picture, but those moments are usually only when (a) I've just woken up, (b) I am deathly ill, or (c) I am having a bad hair day because of stupid New Jersey humidity. And really, the only reason I don’t want my picture taken during those moments is because it’d embarrass CB who sometimes has to remind me to look in the mirror before going outside. But whatever.
So I turned around, saw the photographer, and decided that he probably just didn't realize he was missing out on some really lively shots of me making faces in the window. And so I did. For, like, much too long for a 30-something woman who should have much better social boundaries.
Slowly but surely, though, he lowered his camera, looked at me, and started to laugh.
Me: I totally made his day, I think.
CB: Yeah, I’m sure.
Bouncer: He’s from the New York Times.
Bouncer: He’s from the New York Times. He’s doing a story on the local economy since the storm.
Me: So…maybe I shouldn’t have thrown up peace signs and done the duck face at him through the window?
Bouncer: Hey, you never know, maybe you’ll be in the paper.
Me: My parents will be so proud.
And then I hung my head in pretend shame while also wondering if maybe I’ll now be famous, which would really help me out so that Ice and Coco won’t think I’m creepy when I start randomly hanging out with them at the indoor dog park.
So, you know, keep an eye out, folks! I’m pretty sure he’ll definitely choose one of the pictures with me in it if he knows how to sell a story.
Happy Monday, everyone!