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Broke Photography

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"Helloooo Will!" Mikey yells, flailing his hands about in some dramatic display."Pipe down, man. It's 8am." I groan, rubbing at my eyes as the coffee shop lights burn them."Well that's what coffees are for. What would you like?" Mikey lowers his voice, clicking some buttons on his computer while I walk up to the stand.The coffee shop is dead silent and empty, the only sound being a coffee machine whirring behind the back door."Is Orla making coffee for herself?" I laugh, pointing to the back area where machine noises can be heard loudly."It's early as shit man. Everyone needs a coffee, even the workers." Mikey laughs as well, shaking his head.I list out my coffee order as Mikey clicks all the button on the screen. One of these days my order form is going to burn into the screen with how much I come here.Mikey, Orla, Ieuan, and Aby are sort of like my friends after all. At least I think of them like that. Though, in actuality, it's just them doing their job for some random man every day. Nothing more."Thanks mate." I nod my head at Mikey as he pushes the drink down the counter.Orla emerges from the back carrying 3 coffees, one of which is being impressively balanced on top of another that she's holding."How the fuck have you managed to do that?" I squint in suprise as Mikey takes the coffee cup on top of the other."Practice. You don't do this stupid job for 2 years without having to carry a bunch of coffees out all at once." She laughs, talking a sip of her drink.I just nod knowingly and take a seat at my usual spot by the window.I'm not expecting many people to come in today, barely anyone does. The shop is very small and locally owned. I sort of think of it like my own little escape from the bustling loud streets of London. A place where I can joke around with the same four employees that unknowingly make my day a little bit better.What I really wasn't expecting, though, was a VERY tall man to waltz through the doors of the quaint coffee shop, the doors closing behind him with a ding of a bell.No one ever comes to this place that hasn't already been here, and I've never seen him before.He's very, very, very tall, as I've said. Probably like 6 feet. His muscles are very noticeable in the black tanktop he's wearing, and I see some small tattoos littered around his arms as well. He's wearing long black trousers and I notice a gutair case strapped to his back. His black hair is cut into a grown-out mullet, and his circle glasses really contrast the whole "rockstar" look he has going on.A very odd person to walk into a coffee shop like this, but whatever. I turn my head and go back to sipping on my drink and watching the people walk by through the window.I hear the man murmur some order, but choose to pay no mind to it. I probably should've brought headphones, but of course I didn't.Instead of listening to music and thinking about my life issues, I take out my camera and start adjusting the settings.I've always loved photography, but I could never make a business out of it. I'm a broke 28 year old man living in London that doesn't know what to do with his life. I feel stuck.Maybe life would be different if I got up and got a job, did something with myself, but instead I keep letting myself be hung up on the same stupid dream. I know I'll never make enough doing photography, but I can't help but love it."Shit." I mumble, as the lens to my camera falls to the floor.I back out of my chair to get down to pick it up, but I see it start to roll in the other direction. Great, just great.I get back on my feet and start walking to pick it up as it continues rolling away from me. This is really embarrassing."Fuck." I mutter, bending down to pick up my lens that's finally stopped rolling about.Suddenly, a Doc Martin appears in front me, smashing the lens into pieces as someone walks on it."What." I practically shout, but my cheeks immediately flush in embarrassment as the person themselves looks back me.It's the dude I noticed earlier, that was way too tall for his own good. Now he's just smashed my lens.I'm not one for confrontation at all, and I know it was just a mistake anyways, so all I plan to do is clean up the shattered bits and be on my way. But now the man is walking up to me."Oh! Oh my fucking gosh I'm so sorry. I've just stepped on this haven't I? Fuck. Shit. I'm so sorry." He apologizes, bending down to help me pick up the bits of plastic.I want to crawl into a hole and die."Oh- uh. I'm not mad at all. Don't worry." I reassure him, hoping he forgets this ever happened and walks away."I'm sorry anyways. I'll pay for it, a hundred percent." He nods his head profusely, while continuing to pick up."Oh uhm. It's just a camera lens, they're not that much money." I mumble.Truth be told, struggling as much as I am, a lens like this means a lot more to me than the average person. But I wasn't going to make this man pay for it."Nonsense. I broke it so I'll pay for it." He starts pulling out a little notebook with a pen, and I can see him vigorously writing down something."Here's my info." He holds out a piece of paper to me.I'm to stunned to argue him at this point. I guess he was really adamant on paying for one lens he broke on accident."Thanks." I manage to get out."You said this was a camera lens?" He asks, dropping the pieces into a nearby trashcan and standing up."Yeah, I do uh photography and stuff sometimes." I engage in small talk back with him, because it's the polite thing to do.I know damn well he doesn't actually care about it, he's just asking me to be courteous and kind. Just normal societal things."That's so cool! What do you normally take pictures of?" He beams at the mention of me doing photography, leaning against a table right by us.I'm suprised at his question because he seems like he's genuinely interested. I know he's probably just doing it because he's "supposed" to, but whatever."Just buildings, nature, basic stuff like that." I shrug my arms as his eyes grow bigger in interest."Have you ever considered doing photos of people?" He asks, rasing an eyebrow at me."No? I, uhm, I guess not." I look around me for some kind of escape from his conversation. He doesn't have to pretend to be interested in me, he can just leave now and all is forgiven."Well, I do music and gigs and stuff, and I've always wanted a photographer to take photos of me. Is that something you'd be interested in?" He starts messing with his gutair case that's strapped around his back.I'm genuinely taken aback. What? A musician wants me to take photos of them?"What? Why? I'm not like some super talented photographer I don't really have that much experience." I laugh.I'm not trying to be humble, I'm just being honest. I don't think of myself as talented and I'm not definitely not experienced. What business could a musician want with me?"I don't want some super awesome photographer or anything, I'm not too big or experienced myself. I just figured it could be fun. I'll pay you, of course. You interested?""Oh! Uh. Yes! Yes. Yes I'm interested." The words stumble out of my mouth before I can even process what he's said."Great! You have my info, just give me a call." He winks before dropping his empty coffee cup in the bin and walking out.What the fuck just happened? I just got an actual job for photography?

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