R
richiedcruz
Guest
I had an interesting experience today at my local rental darkroom. I had six developed rolls laying around, enough to be in the way, but not enough to warrant setting up my temporary home darkroom. So I decided to run down to my local photo shop and run up some contact sheets.
I signed up, got some lenses, proof printer etc and headed for the darkroom. There was already someone there, blasting classical music so loud that you could hear it all the way in the front of the store.
I went in and said hello to him, but he did not say anything back. In fact, I would say that the look he gave me reminded me of the way that my best friend looks at his ex-wife.
Things did not improve as I got my coat off and started setting out my darkroom supplies. He actually started to mutter unkind things under his breath. When I pulled out my negative sheets, he snorted, and I could have sworn he was actually going to laugh.
I cannot say that I was very relaxed, when I was trying to choose an enlarger to use. He sighed every time I approached a machine and checked to see if they were plugged in. One that was had a busted timer turned on, when I tried to dial in a time.
Of course, he had some prints in the developing tray and, of course, there was more unkind muttering. I got the machine turned off and found another to use. There was more sarcastic snorting, as I got the enlarging lenses cleaned and dusted.
I finished getting everything set up and started to run up contact sheets. At one point I dropped a flashlight that I had used to check out the various enlargers (making sure that I was keeping its light rays away from the developing tray). It turned on from the fall. He started to swear, still under his breath. Then he told me to: "watch it with that light."
I turned around to say that I was sorry. But he did not bother looking at me, while I was saying it and did not reply in any way. I kept on with running up contact sheets.
Then he started to pace. And I mean pace. I almost swore that he was running laps around the darkroom. And he kept up his muttering.
Finally, I finished with the enlarger and waited for him to finish with the trays. I turned around and noticed that all his prints in all the trays, even the ones in the print washer were turned around so I could not see what was on them. Which is not the way that they were, when I walked in. And, no, they were not x-rated, just tourist pictures from what I took to be a trip to New York.
Anyway, he finished up with the trays, doing his best to keep his back to me the entire time, and making sure that I did not see his vacation photos. I almost started to laugh right there, but he seemed so wound up that I thought there would be no telling how he would have taken it.
I got my contact sheets souped and dried and went up front to pay for my darkroom time. The people behind the counter almost burst out laughing, when they saw me. Then they started talking amongst themselves about the guy who had just left. They referred to him as the "fussy one."
I have used this darkroom for a long time, sometimes it gets pretty crowded in there. But I have always found that most people I share the darkroom with find it a good excuse for some camera or film talk (Wow. You only shoot Tri-x
). This is the first time that anything like this has ever happened to me.
I was just curious to see if anyone has any rental/school darkroom horror stories to share.
Richie
I signed up, got some lenses, proof printer etc and headed for the darkroom. There was already someone there, blasting classical music so loud that you could hear it all the way in the front of the store.
I went in and said hello to him, but he did not say anything back. In fact, I would say that the look he gave me reminded me of the way that my best friend looks at his ex-wife.
Things did not improve as I got my coat off and started setting out my darkroom supplies. He actually started to mutter unkind things under his breath. When I pulled out my negative sheets, he snorted, and I could have sworn he was actually going to laugh.
I cannot say that I was very relaxed, when I was trying to choose an enlarger to use. He sighed every time I approached a machine and checked to see if they were plugged in. One that was had a busted timer turned on, when I tried to dial in a time.
Of course, he had some prints in the developing tray and, of course, there was more unkind muttering. I got the machine turned off and found another to use. There was more sarcastic snorting, as I got the enlarging lenses cleaned and dusted.
I finished getting everything set up and started to run up contact sheets. At one point I dropped a flashlight that I had used to check out the various enlargers (making sure that I was keeping its light rays away from the developing tray). It turned on from the fall. He started to swear, still under his breath. Then he told me to: "watch it with that light."
I turned around to say that I was sorry. But he did not bother looking at me, while I was saying it and did not reply in any way. I kept on with running up contact sheets.
Then he started to pace. And I mean pace. I almost swore that he was running laps around the darkroom. And he kept up his muttering.
Finally, I finished with the enlarger and waited for him to finish with the trays. I turned around and noticed that all his prints in all the trays, even the ones in the print washer were turned around so I could not see what was on them. Which is not the way that they were, when I walked in. And, no, they were not x-rated, just tourist pictures from what I took to be a trip to New York.
Anyway, he finished up with the trays, doing his best to keep his back to me the entire time, and making sure that I did not see his vacation photos. I almost started to laugh right there, but he seemed so wound up that I thought there would be no telling how he would have taken it.
I got my contact sheets souped and dried and went up front to pay for my darkroom time. The people behind the counter almost burst out laughing, when they saw me. Then they started talking amongst themselves about the guy who had just left. They referred to him as the "fussy one."
I have used this darkroom for a long time, sometimes it gets pretty crowded in there. But I have always found that most people I share the darkroom with find it a good excuse for some camera or film talk (Wow. You only shoot Tri-x
I was just curious to see if anyone has any rental/school darkroom horror stories to share.
Richie