Day 6651 / Donna Razzle

It was inevitable that this day would come but asking to borrow a camera and excuse himself to the bathroom was out of the question. There was no way he could risk blowing this. He'd reached that rare apex of liquid courage and sharp wit - the drinker's sweet spot. Clouded judgement be damned, she was most definately into him. He had to keep doing whatever he was doing. Stay the course. Still, he really needed to get his hands on a camera. Time was running out.

"Mark, I need you to let me be a mom for a minute" began the speech he'd been given just ten days prior. "You're going to do great here. I have no doubt of that. Just make sure to find a balance, OK? Have fun, but be safe." Tears now filled the bottoms of her eyelids - a dead give away for the words to follow. "And please do remember to take your picture every day. Make it part of a routine. Brush your teeth, take your picture. Make your bed, take your picture. Our family has lot invested in this little project and now it's in your hands. We trust you. We love you." A big hug ensued.

She looked down at his hand and he realized it was holding an empty cup. He needed to get another drink. Or did he? That look had to mean something. How many beers had he had? It was important to stay focused if he was to have any chance of sealing the deal here. Pay attention to her. Anticipate her needs. Think it through. Is her cup empty? Shit! It is.

"Do you want another drink?"

"Sure."

6,650 days in a row. Day 1 had been taken by his father at the hospital while he was laying on the scale. It was a close up of his face, taken carefully so that approximately 30% of the frame on the sides showed white background (15% on each side) and approximately 20% of the frame on the top/bottom showed white background (10% on each side) resulting in a near perfectly centered shot of his face. Day 6,6650 had been taken by himself, standing against the closet door of his dorm room. It was a close up of his face, taken carefully so that approximately 30% of the frame on the sides showed white background (15% on each side) and approximately 20% of the frame on the top/bottom showed white background (10% on each side) resulting in a near perfect centered shot of his face.

Waiting in line at the keg she let her hand brush against his hip. Well, it brushed against his hip, whether or not it was a conscious act initiated by her or a random touch of body parts in a crowded basement of a fraternity house was open for debate. It was good to consider that he decided. He was most definitely drunk but the fact that he still had the capacity to question and analyze possible acts of flirtation spoke to his relative soberness. He began to fill his cup. When it was half full he realized he should have filled hers first. Fuck.

Take the picture every day before dinner. It was the routine he'd followed throughout high school and he saw no reason it wouldn't serve him just as well in college. Earlier that day he'd had the camera in hand and was positioning himself against the closet door when his roommate opened the door.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. . . What's up?"

"You taking pictures of the room or something?"

"No. . . It's a new camera. Just trying to figure out the settings and shit."

"Uh huh. Settings. Whatever. Listen, you busy right now? Want to go to a party?"

"Now? I was just going to get something to eat."

"Party starts now man. Free dinner with drinks after. Lots of girls. Just have to pretend you want to join a frat."

"I should change."

"Nah you look great. We're already late. Let's go."

He turned to offer her his cup in an attempt to make up for the momentary lapse of chivalry but she was gone. Shit. A hand on his shoulder gave him a sudden burst of hope but he turned to find his roommate and three guys from his floor smiling, holding a beer bong. Shit.

His mom had had the idea when she was 5 months pregnant - one snapshot for every day of her child's life. She discussed it with her husband and he pitched it to a publisher. They loved the idea. It would be photo representation of an entire lifetime - a flipbook of sorts to be marketed as an oversized coffee table book. The amount of the publisher's advance was unheard of - enough to get them out of debt and put a down payment on their first house - but the idea was original and sure to be a hit. The only catch was they needed to keep up with the pictures. Failure to do so would breach the contract and they'd have to return the money. A family legacy of sorts was born.

What time was it? If it wasn't midnight it was close. Neither the hands of his watch nor the illuminated digits of his cell phone offered answers. His eyes refused to interpret either as a comprehensible time. Everything blurred. He'd left the party some time ago foolishly thinking he could find a place that sold cameras next door, across the street, or right around the corner. Somewhere. He was lost now but no less determined to get his hands on a camera. A couple people passed him on the sidewalk and he tried asking them if they could take his picture but what came out of his mouth was incomprehensible gibberish. They laughed and walked into a bar. He was surely fucked now. How could he be so stupid? What would he tell his mom? Where the hell was he?

"Can somebody please take my picture?"

He saw a gathering of bushes on the next block that looked inviting. He stumbled behind them and laid down, admitting defeat. Drunken sleep overtook him just as the cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate. It was his mother. She was calling to check in. She couldn't sleep.

zeroth life lesson: it's not only good things that must come to an end, dumb things do too.