Had this odd photo shoot in Cape May this weekend. Shoot was at some brain surgeon's house just across the street from the beach; lovely view of the ocean. Rumor had been circulating in town for some time that this was supposed to be Tom Cruise's house, or he was buying it, or he was looking at it, or he was using it strictly for breeding purposes, I dunno. Anyway. I don't think it went very well for me, anyway, because I hate having my picture taken.
But my shoot-mates were quite interesting. Diane, a 52-year-old computer teacher, had that classic soap opera actress look. Quite lovely and inexperienced. Ira had been a pilot, runs trading seminars, and has appeared in L&O. A mob type. Cynthia is a 36-year-old model/ballet/pilates teacher with a terrific bod, legs up to her ass, closeted gay husband, purple strap-on, neurologically-impaired son, and confidence bordering on obnoxiousness. The strap-on came about--and believe me, she volunteered this information--when she had answered an ad on craigslist that was looking for a model to perform in a dominatrix role in a film. She sent the ad to her closeted gay husband as a joke, and he ended up buying the strap-on for her. For him. Ha! Ha!
Part of the problem, I think, was that I was kind of the odd man out. The photographer didn't quite know what to do with me. So while the other three participated in this real estate "theme," in which Cynthia--in a short skirt with her legs up to her forehead--sold the house to Diane and Ira, posing as a wealthy couple...I was cast as kind of the poor, cancer-stricken relation from Alabama with a tacky scarf carelessly tied about my head.
There were other scenes in which we were all friends--or Ira's mistresses, we weren't quite sure. But while the other gals looked relatively rich and fabulous...I still came off looking like the dumpy charwoman. You'll see when I post a picture in a month or so.
It was a very long day. 4 total strangers, posing for a camera for 10 hours. We followed the shoot with a quick drink and snack at Cabanas. The conversation revolved around marriage, dreams, kids, sex...isn't it odd, how you can share the most intimate secrets with people you don't even know? No moral judgements, no fear of pissing people off...and maybe even make a friend in the process.
After that, I had to get the obligatory fudge and salt water taffy for the boys and dug my heels in the surf. There was a promenade that evening on the boardwalk, high schoolers strutting their sequined, decked-out stuff, plunging necklines, white tuxes(!)...bringing back memories--well, certainly not of MY prom, because I didn't GO to my prom, because I wasn't ASKED. Bitter? Nah. Just wasn't into it, and was in fact dating a guy who was well into his 20s by then, so I assumed he had no interest in my prom. Still. It would've been nice to have been asked. Ok, maybe just a little bitter.
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