I used to work in a parking booth. It was called The Firestone Parking Booth, but we called it the John Wilkes Booth Memorial Booth, just for laughs. Sometimes people would call, mistaking it for a Firestone tire store. I’m ashamed to admit I once took an appointment to rotate a fellow’s tires. I told the guy on the other end of the line that when he brought his vehicle in, if we were busy, just tell them that “Craig” said it was ok. Shameful, I know. But you do a lot of stupid things when you’re young.
People treat you different when you work in a parking booth. Who cares that you have hopes and dreams and someday you plan on leaving that parking booth to make a name for yourself. Who cares because someone tipped over the garbage on level three so go clean it up, buddy. People do treat you different, but not everyone does.
My boss at the parking lot was Patricia. She treats her gardener the same way she treats the guy that owns the company we worked for, which is to say, with respect. It’s been a hundred years since I worked for Gastronomy, but last week Patricia called me up. She is going to publish one of her books and she wanted some publicity photos. It seems back when I was just learning about photography I asked everyone I knew if I could photograph them. I even asked my boss Patricia. When she called me last week she said I’m the only person that’s ever made a picture of her that she liked.
Meet Patrica, photographed in her home in Salt Lake City.
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Justin Hackworth photographs mystery writers, parking lot attendants, people that need their tires rotated and he wants to photograph you.
{ 5 comments }
Well, I like Patricia! And I really love your story, “Craig.” I can relate to your parking attendant’s lament. I had a job or two that showed me the sometimes small side of human nature. I also remember what it was like to be platinum blonde for a while. Talk about being treated differently. You’d have thought I was wearing a “Dumb Blonde” sign around my neck.
When I was a kid my dad told me lots of strange things which didn’t hold up under scrutiny. One: we’re related to John Wilkes Booth. Another: we’re Irish. Nope and nope. Although I do have an Uncle Patrick who was born on St. Paddy’s Day. And I do frequent theaters (though I don’t shoot presidents).
Georgia, next time I see you remind me to tell about the time Patricia said, “Who told Doug he could have a biscuit!” You’ll like that story, too.
Justin,
I just loved that post. You’re an amazing, talented & kind photographer. I feel lucky that I got to work on a project with you. Just remember the little people when you become really rich & famous!
Oh, Kyong, thanks so much. I’m glad we got to work on a project together too, and I think that should be just the beginning.
Justin, your photos are great, and the stories just make them that much more endearing….
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