What Happens in the Photo Booth Stays in the Photo Booth

Recently, my favorite pub installed a working photo booth. Like an abandon space capsule, it rests in the northwest corner of the Lucky 13, next to the pool table, pin ball machines and ATM. On one particular night, I had been photographing a very animated pool game, when a young couple stepped past me and discreetly entered the photo booth. Closing the curtain behind them, they stood facing each other. There was a brief discussion. I’d like to think they simply kissed before gathering themselves in front of the camera. Once seated, the mechanical paparazzi went to work. Below the curtain, between each camera flash, the couple’s feet shuffled to new entangled positions.

What happens in the photo booth stays in the photo booth. Unless the evidence gets posted on Facebook, revealed to friends and family and on view for future spouses, children and employers. Part exhibition chamber, performance art space, changing room, mug shot generator, speed dater, pornographer, the Photo Booth offers the thrill of a semi-private photo session.

I had my first photo booth experience when I was 9. It was during a family St. Louis to Florida road trip. We visited Panama City, and one evening at a carnival, we came across a photo booth. The four of us took turns, with mixed results. For my photo op, making stupid faces was the best I came up with. My 7 year old brother, not yet hip to the whole concept, was at his innocent best. He sat quietly and smiled as each shot rolled off, resulting in a very Andy Warhol series of replications. My parents, perhaps at the height of their marriage, posed like two college kids, with big smiles and suggestive expressions. Years later, in another booth, I sat with my Tilda Swinton lookalike girlfriend as we theatrically groped and mugged for the camera. It was a brief moment in a relationship that, like many, thankfully predates the internet.

Meanwhile, back at the pub, the couple’s thirty seconds of glamour came to an end. The curtain drew back. Captured on film, the couple casually exited the photo booth with their freshly printed souvenir. Sitting at the bar, they hovered over the photos, smiling in the afterglow.

The Bar Is Like High School

You’ve heard the saying, “Life is like high school”. It’s all about who you know, who you hang with, who you don’t, how you look, what you wear, how you flirt, schmooze and basically get along with your peers. If you were successful in the above, you had a better time than I did.

However, if life is like high school, everyone gets a second chance. For late bloomers like me, this is good news. There’s no better place to get your adult GED than the popular local pub. All the drama that happened in high school, continues 21 and over. Think of it as study hall with alcohol. There are no teachers, but there are lessons. Girls have become women. They dress for attraction, knowing they may have to swat away a few flies. Boys have become men, and are measured by their charm to aggression ratio. Any and all behavior less than assault is fair game, and there isn’t much that doesn’t take place at a given time or undisclosed location. As in high school, the more outrageous and entertaining, the better. There are fewer body piercings but more tattoos than in high school. If tattoos could heal, there would be less of them as well. As in high school, attendance is mandatory. If you’ve been absent, a round of drinks will warm any cold shoulders. There’s no homework, but there are hangovers. Going home with someone is good for extra credit. No grades are given, but most patrons reflect on each evening as a pass/fail experience. Unlike high school, the bar has no official graduation. Life is transient. Patrons come and go. Some drop out after failing in Excess Management. Others are content, each night, to peel diplomas off bottles of beer. Eventually most take up residency elsewhere and continue their studies with new relationships, new jobs, cities or a new circle of friends.

"Live At The Lucky 13"

Recorded after hours at the legendary Lucky 13 bar in Alameda, California. Thanks to the L13 management and staff and second camera, Charlene Bissinger.

“Thirteen Blues”
Carl Weingarten – slide guitar, looping
Live at The Lucky 13, Alameda, California

GUITAROSPHERES Video Series – “New music in unusual spaces.”