The "Joint" Story

It was an ordinary day. Getting bored sitting on the beach. Left my Kindle in the condo. So, I grab the camera and head down the beach for some shots of "boogie" boarders, surfers and even a few bikinis stuffed with someone. Catch a few pixs of a game of "Dominos" between four young guys who slap their domino piece down on the plywood game table with such force that it shakes. Then decide it's time to head back to the chair for a nap. As I pass a few islanders sitting under an umbrella I see what I know will be a really neat photo. Young guy with dreadlocks sitting facing parallel with the water. Neat silhouette photo. I walk over and ask him if he minds if I take his photo. "Are you with the CIA," he asks me. "Do I look like I am?" I respond. "Nah man, but just checking." So I take a few steps back so I can get a side view of him under the umbrella with the water in the background. When I turn around he is lighting a cigarette. And in a few seconds, when the sweet smell hits me, I realize it is one of his own. And an illegal one. His friends all laugh at him and tell him he's nuts letting me take his photo with a joint in his mouth. I shoot a few shots, walk over and thank him. He tells me he will find me tomorrow and give me his business card so I can email him a copy. Then he holds up the cigarette and offers it to me. "Nah, never know if there might be a CIA guy around.". It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.