The Prize of Shame

I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of things I've actually won over the years. I've never had a winning lottery ticket. I've spent a fair share of Lincolns on triple arms lengths of 50/50 tickets that never yield a profit, football and basketball pools that pay off nicely--for someone else and various tricky tray (nee Chinese) auctions that, I hope, benefit a good cause because they surely did not benefit me. Publishers' Clearinghouse has steadfastly ignored my existence--even when I used to slavishly send in my entries. And my forays into casinos invariably end with the phrase, "well, at least we had a good time." Sure, I've made off with a few centerpieces and the occasional door prize over the years, but never the "grand" prize, so to speak. So imagine my surprise when I hear my name announced as the lucky winner of a family portrait at a fundraising event for a local non-profit organization. Not exactly a new car, but definitely a cut above the centerpiece!

Excited, I promptly register with the photography company for my portrait--faxing them my contact information. Almost immediately, Lindy from Bourgeois Photography (an assumed name) calls me and ask me what kind of fundraiser I entered to win their donated prize. She seems put out that I won in a tricky tray rather than a silent auction. Is it me, or am I sensing disapproval? I can't decide, so I forge on. Lindy says, with an air of indulging me despite the fact that their donation was clearly undersold,  that she is sending me my gift certificate and we arrange a date for our sitting.

Included with the certificate are glossy brochures of their portraits. These portraits, the literature points out, are not your run of the mill portraits. They are printed on canvas and  "artist enhanced." Depicting mostly formally dressed families in staid settings with dark backgrounds and gilt frames, I am a little disappointed in the overall mood of the finished products, but what the heck--it's free, right? I open the fancy little box containing my gift and note with foreboding that it is in the amount of $2000.00. In my world, this would purchase family portraits enough to cover every wall of my house. I feel I'm being led a merry dance, but I decide to see it through.

Sitting day comes. The Mayor is off mayoring, so the boy and I go to have our mother/son portrait. I get my hair done, we dress in the recommended dark colors and we pose for a variety of shots. The photographer is charming and the boy and I have a good time with it. There's no sign of Lindy, but Emily--the lady at the front desk arranges a time for me to come back, review and select our portrait. Meanwhile, I get a closer look at their work. Portraits are arranged throughout the studio. They strive for an heirloom quality portrait that is more painting than photo. But to me they look kind of ghostly and surreal. Whatever, I think, see how it goes.

Finally the day of reckoning. I get the sense that I'm being set up for the hard sell. A few days before my appointment, Jessica calls to "strongly encourage" me to bring the Mayor along because "all decisionmakers" should be present. I assure them, in politer terms of course, that the Mayor couldn't care less what image I choose and that I am decisionmaker enough for this event. I know and of course they know we are not talking about the image anymore, we are talking about the price, but in the wonderfully euphemistic world of things that cost a ridiculous amount of money, we're all happy to pretend.

When I arrive, Jessica escorts me to a viewing room where I sit on a lovely sofa. She offers me tea. I decline because I know my goal is not to "spend" more than my $2000.00 gift certificate and I don't want to take advantage. The photos of me and the boy are fantastic. One better than the other, so of course, I want them all. We pick the best images in each position. Then Jessica puts it on the table. Portraits range from $8000.00 on down to $2000.00. Net net, the $2000.00 I have gets me an unframed 11 X 14, which she explains, will not have much "artist" work on it because it is "so small." I'm secretly good with that since I feel it is the artist additions that have rendered the portraits all around me somewhat scary, but I look downcast as a poor person out of her league should look. I decide to recognize the possibility that perhaps they should make money on the "gift" they "donated" to charity and ask, what it would cost to have my measly portrait framed. There is no framing possibility less than $300. Not doing it. She offers mounted versions of the other shots that can be set on little mini-easels, not "enhanced" of course and I'd have to find my own mini-easels. I think ok, maybe I'll get one or two of these. Wrong. An 8 X 10 is $300. It's $250 for a 5 X7. Now I know I can't do business here.

With the mysterious unknown cost of the "artist's touch" removed, I can estimate how much these mounted photos would cost them. Hell, I can probably go on Snapfish and get one for next to nothing. I would have paid a reasonable sum, in order to keep it polite. I recognize the value of professional photography and that people need to earn a living. I was prepared to spend up to about $100 for my "prize." But they offered me no options. The disapproval and anger I felt off off Jessica when she realized I was not taking the bait was palpable. She couldn't get rid of me fast enough and, in fact, couldn't even look at me again. I guess I was supposed to feel shame. That was my big prize. Too late, I realized that I'd have been happier if she'd just handed me an 8X10 print of each of the poses and charged me for them. That would have been a real win. My portrait has not arrived yet. I have no idea how it will look. But every time I look at it, I'll remember how lucky I am to be unlucky most of the time.