Some people are respectful. They'll stop walking to let a photographer take a shot before passing in front of him. Or if they inadvertently step into the frame, they'll apologize.
Then there's rude dimwits. Take this one – please.
I don't know who this guy sitting at the bus stop is but he symbolizes everything that makes living in Plattsburgh such a joy for me.
I realize that everyone gets harassed at times, but after the nth time it becomes tiresome and annoying, especially when I'm minding my own business. This town has a surfeit of irritating nosy pissants.
I was photographing rainbow oil stains in a driveway puddle, standing on a public sidewalk. I kept checking for vehicles, moving aside when one entered the parking lot.
Someone across the street started shouting at me. It was a guy sitting inside the bus stop booth, either waiting for the next bus or maybe for an angel to deliver the gray matter that God forgot to install when he was born. My camera was aimed down, not in his direction, so there was no reason for him to complain I was shooting his mug.
It was distracting, trying to shoot with this jabbering jackass in the background. He kept telling me to move along and stop taking photographs. At least that's what I could interpret from his limited verbalization skills. His speech consisted of a series of gacks punctuated by snorts.
I ignored him. When I started to leave, I slipped a bit on a patch of snow. He snorted with laughter. I stopped and snapped a couple of images of this Mensa Society candidate. He didn't mind; he just kept agackin' and asnortin'.
Intelligence and creativity makes one an easy target in Plattsburgh, NY. Polyps want you to conform to their non-standard: Be nothing. Don't do anything that demonstrates above-average manual and mental skills. Of course, such jealousy is understandable since your typical Burgh dimwit can't operate an electric can opener without cutting off a finger (or some other useless appendage).