I’m a writer, and most writers share one common trait. We are in one way or the other willing to take a chance, risk failure, and cross a few lines. Now, I admit, I’m a bit of a line crosser—both in my writing and in my life. It’s just how I’m wired.
My faulty wiring has occasionally landed me in some strange situations. Some good strange, where I got lucky…not that kind of lucky! And some not so good strange like the time I ended up being chased down Van Nuys Boulevard in the San Fernando Valley (a suburb of Los Angeles) by a half-naked drunk man. (But I’ll save that story for another blog.)
Anyway, for this blog, I wanted to tell you about a crossing-the-line/good-day/got-lucky experience. Not that kind of lucky! Well, not exactly that kind of lucky. It did involve some smoldering hot men—yowzy—and there were clothes being removed, but before you jump to any conclusions, remember I’m a southern, very married lady, so let me explain.
My hubby, (see hubby was with me) and I had gone to Galveston, Texas for a seafood dinner. When we arrived at the restaurant, we noticed they were filming Good Morning Houston across the street. That was interesting, but what caught my eye, was the fire truck filled with some very hot men. (And I don’t mean there was a fire around either.) They were almost too yummy to be your average fight-a-fire-Joe. And I just so happened to have my camera with me. So, I thought…hey, I could snap a few shots. Of course, you understand, I was doing it for you, not for myself.
Anyway, I . . . well, I crossed the line. I mean both figuratively and literally. You see they had sort of taped off this section to keep the average public out. But since when did I consider myself average? So I did it. I crossed the line. And then standing on that side of the line, I put my camera up to my eye and snapped a few shots.
Oddly, the strangest thing happened. One of the firemen spotted me. He pointed me out to the other men, and then . . . this is when things got weird . . . all the guys started taking off their clothes.
Hard to believe, isn’t it? I know, I couldn’t believe it either. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this bizarre occurrence, but no one seemed to think it was strange. So I did what any decent, married, southern lady would have done. I put the camera back to my eye and kept taking pictures. (For you guys…of course.)
My husband, standing on the other side the line started yelling. In all fairness, I didn’t blame him. If the shoe was on the other foot, and he’d been taking pictures of women removing their clothes, I’d have yelled, too. But amazingly, my hubby, being the hubby he is, wasn’t yelling at me to stop, he was yelling to make sure I had enough film. Of course, he knew I was doing it for my blog readers. Gotta love that man.
Anyway, I was snapping shots of firemen undressing and a gentleman came up and interrupted me and wanted to peek at my press pass. You see, the firemen, were part of the 2008 Galveston Firemen Calendar, and they had been expecting a photographer to come out to snap some “sexy” shots. And seeing that I looked professional, and knew my way around a camera, they thought the show was on.
Let me tell you, it was a nice show. And since I was doing all of it for you guys anyway, and considering all the proceeds of the calendar would go to support a children’s fund, well, I thought I’d share.
For more information about the calendar you can check out: http://www.galvestonfiredept.org/
For another chance to win a DD&D T-shirt, go to www.dorchesterpub.com and check out the contest there. And if you still haven’t gotten a copy of Divorced, Desperate and Delicious check out www.LoriWilde.com . Read the interview she did of yours truly and enter your name for a chance to win a free book.
Crime Scene Christie