I shot this when I was working for University Photographic Services. We were transitioning into digital cameras and the department just bought a Nikon D100, which was the top of the line Nikon DSLR at the time. One of my tasks while working there was to test out the new camera and get familiar with its functions and gadgets.
I decided to take it to my friends’ band practice one weekend. It was held in their garage where they smoke lots of pot. I didn’t smoke much at that point in my life and was completely naive to the fact that the smell clings itself onto fabrics.
Anyway, I shot a bunch photos, learned how to use the camera and promptly returned it the following Monday. Shortly after, I remember John (the manager) coming out of his office and asking Carrie (my supervisor) to sniff the bag. I found it kinda odd, not really making the connection. In fact, I was so oblivious to it that I was actually paranoid they thought it smelled like B.O. instead. Carrie took a sniff and awkward looks from them followed. I never understood why until a few months down the road.
Once upon a time, there used to be a gap at this skatepark which somehow managed to get coined, “The Francis Gap.” I’d hear people I didn’t know calling it that and I’d always feel slightly embarrassed when they realize I’m the kid named Francis. Then of course, they’d ask me to jump it.
One day, in a skatepark on the other side of town, some little kids rolled up to me and asked if I knew who Francis was and if I could jump the gap. I was by myself at the time so I just kinda chuckled, said no and got the hell out of there.
The photo above is “The Francis Gap,” jumped going the opposite direction. Fortunately, it’s no longer called that and most transfers in the park have more literal and descriptive names.