Elmont, NY (I)
Smile for me now—it won't work," he said firmly. The words came from my silver-haired fox coworker in Elmont, NY. Most people have never heard of Elmont; it's a border town of Queens, NY, and officially the start of Long Island, NY. Long Island, often overshadowed by its more glamorous sibling, Queens, can be likened to the quirky, endearing characters you see on TV. Think of Mike Myers playing a middle-aged woman hosting a show called Coffee Talk—loud, endearing, and unapologetically itself. And yes, it's also the home to famous personalities like Jerry Seinfeld, the Skinny Wine Lady, and Mariah Carey, who embody its unique charm.
Elmont, however, lacked the glitz and glamour associated with its neighbors—it was more like the awkward stage of a single child before their glow-up. It was that strange, overlooked kid you never paid much attention to.
Despite its quirks, I loved the people I worked with, even though none of us actually lived in Elmont. We all hailed from different boroughs.
“Especially teens," my coworker continued. "Now, if I said something like 'hi, chicken,' I'd get a crack of a smile even from the surliest of them all! Just looking at all of you now, I can see you want to smile. Okay, we're going to break up into groups of 2 and practice what we're going to say."
This marked my first day of training at a family-owned portrait photography company, a job I found through Craigslist. Back then, Craigslist was a hub for finding jobs, missed connections, or even buying furniture with character. The ad suited me—a creative type with diverse skills. Essentially, they were looking for someone willing to work with kids, had a clean record, and a functioning car. I ticked all the boxes.
The training took place in what felt like an ominous basement—carpeted floors, walls painted in a nauseating shade of yellow that made you want to gag. The setup of the photo station seemed like something rigged up by a madman.
But what worried me more than the setup was my coworkers. There was the older woman craving attention, cracking jokes, and striving to be the center of everything. Then there was the professional photographer, dressed to impress but clearly past his prime. And of course, there was the shifty-looking one—every workplace had one.
You might be wondering, "Well, Young, maybe you're considered shifty yourself, given your track record with 'interesting' jobs." And perhaps you have a point. While my list of previous jobs may not be impressive, I can assure you, shifty I was not.
Dishwasher
Busser
Waitress
Driver
Lawn chair collector (surprisingly lucrative)
Macy’s associate (lasted a week)
Hostess (training only, lasted a week)
Wannabe documentarian (unconventional, but I count it)
Photographer/photo retoucher
Fit model
Coat check (barely made it two months)
So there we were—a motley crew of children’s photographers in a dim, dingy basement room in an industrial area. All led by Levi, not the silver-haired fox, but a wedding photography authority. He was a character in his own right—a short man who'd battled weight issues but found success with the Atkins diet. Levi's lunch consisted of massive bites from a block of cheese, which he swore by for weight loss. It might have seemed bizarre, but to me, it was pure genius—the simplicity, convenience, and predictability of his lunch choice. After all, who wouldn't want a meal that fits neatly in a pocket or handbag?
