As you may recall, a couple of weeks ago, I accompanied my friend Maile (she of Epiphanie camera bags), to assist her at a conference and trade show in Las Vegas. You know, Las Vegas! Sin City! Gambling! Burlesque! David Copperfield!
Yeah, we saw none of that.
It turns out that running a trade show booth is a hell of a lot of work: every morning, Maile, her awesome staff and I would wake up, grab breakfast and head down to the trade show floor, where we'd be on our feet for eight hours, before coming back to our rooms and collapsing. In fact, the only reason that I was able to take photographs of the Las Vegas strip at all is because one night, I decided that returning to Houston without any images of the Strip would be sad even for me, so I ran outside for 5 minutes and photographed it. We saw no shows, and we didn't so much as drop a coin in a slot machine.
In other words, we totally failed at Vegas.
What we totally aced, however, was room service. We had room service for breakfast, we had room service for dinner. When we weren't working, we were room servicing.
And so, for today's Hasselblad shots, I share with you room service. I would feel bad about this, but when I picked up this roll of film, as my film processor was ringing me up on the cash register, he suddenly stopped, looked me dead in the eyes, and said,
"Dear God, do you not just love room service?!"
Yes, George. Yes, indeed I do.
And with that, have a happy weekend, folks. Don't forget to stop over at Babble, where I prove that I can be grateful for things other than room service.