When you find yourself standing in the garden, in full belly dancing gear (plus wellies), holding Winnie the chicken, you know you have either been a good egg to someone, or you’ve been well and truly stitched up.
Said friend is doing a photography course, and was on the lookout for anyone with ‘an unusual hobby’. Being the helpful sort that I am, I offered to ask my belly dancing class if they wouldn’t mind her lurking around one week; I thought all the jingly belts and swishy scarves might make for an interesting picture.
She then informed me that it was actually ‘Portrait’ week, so what she really needed was a snapshot of just one person’s life, in their own environment. Realisation dawned that I’d just won the Willy Wonka golden ticket for a modelling session… looking like an extra in a bad Bollywood film.
In desperation, I tried the old “I’m the most unphotogenic person in the world” chestnut (actually true), but she was having none of it.
“Wouldn’t you rather have a picture of me mucking out the chickens?”, I tried again, thinking that if I’m going to be photograhed, it may as well be doing something I’m at home with.
“You’ve got chickens?” she excitedly replied… “That’s brilliant!”
I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I was indeed, off the hook… but she carried on, “I can have a picture of you - in your belly dancing gear - holding a chicken! It will make a fantastic portrait!”.
I’m expecting a Christmas bonus from the good karma fairies…
