45 Minutes for One Stupid Selfie
Long before the selfie was a thing, I detested having my picture taken. My youth is littered with pictures of me half-turned away from the camera because I caught that asshole sneakily trying to snap a picture right before they pressed the shutter button.
“Oh, it’s so cute, you’re shy…”
No, you’re just annoying the shit out of me with that goddamned camera.
Didn’t matter who they were: a friend, a co-worker, or even grandma, they always tried to capture an image of me in my natural setting, covertly stalking me like a rare creature simply existing in my natural habitat. I always wanted to lunge at them and teach them not to fuck with wild animals.
People put so much importance into photos, and with the advent of the selfie, that mentality exploded into an embraced ubiquitous narcissism. While getting my picture taken is annoying, selfies to me represent the epitome of the self-absorbed insolence that often seems like the rest of the human race experiences daily. Only myself and a few odd outliers seem to recognize this, and if we say anything about it publicly we “just don’t like fun.”
It’s become so commonplace to take selfies everywhere you go that you’re almost considered weird if you don’t do it. Just an anti-social, no-fun nun, arrogantly judging others from atop a mountain of divine wisdom.
Or, I just don’t like having my picture taken. And just because you like it, it doesn’t make me some weirdo for being different in that regard. Also, yes, I do judge people who take selfies all the time. Right or wrong, I have no shame in admitting that I view someone who takes pictures of themselves non-stop as a narcissistic stooge.
But the thing is, sometimes you need a pic, simply to prove you’re a real person if nothing else.
Sure, you can slap a quick logo or cartoon figure into that 50x50 pixelated circle, but it looks like a fake account, doesn’t it? No one really trusts that profile, wondering as they stare at a modest cartoon figure if this is even a real person, and why they don’t put a real picture of themselves up.
Probably a bot, bots can’t take selfies.
I see profiles without a real pic and have that thought all the time. And it can work the other way around too. Not all the “real” pics lend any confidence to me that the person behind that picture is actually real. It’s so filtered and processed, the picture looks like someone took 3 hours to get it just right, which tells me there’s a whole lot of fake in that photo.
Hell, if I see a profile of a good-looking lady, with just a touch of cleavage showing on the bottom 10 pixels of that little profile circle, I automatically assume it’s a bot. Just a bot luring idiots like me in, because we see 10 pixels of what we assume, is boobs.
But you gotta have a pic. And if you’re like me and rejected the idea of constantly taking pictures of yourself to share with people you don’t even know, you’re probably just as skilled as I am at taking a selfie. Which is to say “without skill.”
I have a real profile picture on this site. Scroll up a bit. Yep, that little circle is showing my real face smiling in the sunlight. Snapped it a few weeks ago as of this writing.
That stupid picture took me an absurd 45 minutes to acquire.
I would take the phone out and start checking the light. Standing up on my balcony, allowing the whole neighborhood to observe my idiocy first-hand, I held out my cell phone in one outstretched arm and turned around in circles trying to get the best angle, all the while wearing a fake smile plastered to my face that reminded me of the innocent smile of a mentally challenged person every time I tried to snap the shot.
After fifteen minutes or so of failing to do something I see people do everywhere, every day, I wanted to toss that goddamned phone right off of that balcony. This incredible tool that had changed the world for the better in so many ways now felt like a vile contraption with the sole purpose of immersing one’s self in self-worship.
I went back inside to escape the heat, lamenting about how ridiculous it was that people wouldn’t just assume I was real without a picture, even though I wouldn’t, and then after some time I went back out to try again.
And again, I stood on my balcony with my hand outstretched in front of me, turning around in circles trying to get the best light, watching people walk by looking at me like I was a rare kind of fool.
Once I finally found the right angle after circling like a dog getting settled into their favorite napping spot, it was time to pose. Nothing fancy, just a quick, friendly smile that conveys an easy-going, lighthearted soul. Move the camera a bit, then pick up the head a touch, then just a slight tilt should do it. Now for that smile.
It’s hard to smile right if you think you look stupid.
Every single shot displayed my face not smiling, but trying to smile. Like it was a herculean effort to move the corners of my mouth up just a touch. It looked quite similar to photos taken in the past by people who wanted to sneak a quick pic while they thought I wasn’t watching. My face in every picture conveyed the message: “I hate this garbage, and this smile is so fake I actually want everyone who sees this to know just how fake it is.”
I went back inside and further sulked about why this was necessary in the first place. Can’t I just throw up a cute cartoon and call it good? What the hell does everyone need to see my face for?
It occurred to me I could simply copy a free-use photo from anywhere and slap that into the profile pic. I mean hey, if I gotta have one, why not project to the world I look like Fabio or David Beckham?
And that’s when I realized I’d fallen into the trap of vanity.
I began just wanting it done. Now I was trying to get it just right, thinking about what that particular angle would tell people seeing it. How would a slightly wider smile make people think of me? Does this angle make me look weird, or insincere?
Why the fuck do I care? That’s the real question.
This recognition made me genuinely smile. I was falling for it, slipping right into the cesspool of self-absorption that rules so many today, but I saw what was going on and corrected course. I didn’t need a perfect pic, or a profile of some famous, sexy dude. I needed one quick pic that simply showed I’m a real person.
I went out to the balcony one last time. By now I was familiar with the spot that was working for a good light angle and I didn’t have to spend what had felt like an eternity simply getting that right. I held out the phone and smiled genuinely knowing that I wasn’t wrong, this was completely stupid, and I was going to get it over with once and for all.
One and done. I looked at the pic, wasn’t 100% satisfied, and didn’t care. That was the pic. I was done with this shit, and that felt good.
So much effort for a 50x50 pixel picture. As I posted it I wondered how on earth people who take selfies all the time remain sane. It soon occurred to me that most who do probably aren’t completely sane, they can’t be. Just the egocentric act alone can’t be healthy, and the fretting over this pic or that pic has to be incredibly draining.
Unfortunately, for those like me getting a real picture up in certain spaces is almost required if you want to make the most out of opportunities. It’s just the way it is, love it or despise it.
Fortunately for those like me, taking an “I give zero fucks about this” picture is fairly easy, looks fine for the purpose it serves, and costs you zero head space. As long as you don’t fall into the trap of thinking your picture needs to look like…well anything except just the stupid, simple picture of your face that it is, completing this chore isn’t a big deal.
Get it done, move on, and get that goddamned camera out of my face.