There are only a few times in my life when I’ve been truly perplexed by technology. Once, when someone showed me a machine which could carbonate gin, essentially making sparkling gin – something which no one needs or, indeed, wants. Again, when I was renovating and discovered some motorised roller skates in the attic (for when you want to roller skate, but really can’t be arsed). And, finally, when I went to a museum and spotted a gun which took a photo when the trigger was pulled. There were real photos, too. It was morbid.
With these ridiculous inventions in mind, I’m always thankful for the simpler things in life. Namely, a good TV. Sure, we’ve come quite a way when it comes to the tech behind TVs. Just look at the difference 4K viewing makes in comparison to the hunk of junk you grew up with. However, TVs have always had the same purpose, which makes them pretty foolproof. For most people, anyway.
This brings me to a story which will either make you laugh or cry. Or neither as, you know, my life doesn’t really affect you. But I’m going to tell you anyway. A while ago, I received a text from a disgruntled bride. Actually, ‘disgruntled’ is an understatement. If she could have reached through the phone and punched me in the face, she probably would have. Her text read something along the lines of, “These are the worst photos I’ve ever seen. You were a waste of money and I’m sick to my stomach. You haven’t even edited them. My guests took better photos on their phones.”
I hadn’t panicked that much since the Scottish gin crisis of 2013. I pulled the bride’s photos up on my monitor, frantically flicking through the shots to see where I had gone wrong. Did I make her look fat? Was I shooting from the wrong angle? Was the lighting off?
At that moment, my wife came home and caught me in a state. I showed her the text and asked her to take a look at the photos but, to add to my confusion, she couldn’t find anything wrong. “They meet the AK standard,” she said, referring to the benchmark I set for all my shots before they’re sent out to a client. Then and there, I sent a message to the bride. If it weren’t a client, off-duty Avi would have come back with a huge middle-finger GIF. But customer service Avi remembered that he needed to pay the bills, so I apologised and asked for a little more feedback.
“The photos are just not good enough,” She said. “I’m going to give you a terrible review for this.”
Deflated, I put my phone down. No amount of alcohol could save the day, but I cracked open a gin anyway (because I’m me) and dragged myself to the sofa to binge-watch Star Wars and wallow in self-pity. Before I knew it, it was 9pm and my eyes were struggling to stay open. I was in that weird limbo between sleep and consciousness when my phone rang, jerking me awake. I sat there, frozen, waiting for it to stop. When it finally did, I put it away. Whoever wants to have another go at me could wait eight hours.
The next day, I woke up and for a moment I had forgotten all about the fiasco of the previous day. However, one quick look at my phone and it all came flooding back. I stared at the new voicemail notification for a good minute before finally listening.
“Hi Avi, I don’t really know how to say this,” she started. My mind raced. Was she going to sue me? Am I going to go to jail? Who’s the best lawyer round here? How much do lawyers cost anyway?
“I’m going to be humble and eat my words. I’m so sorry for the awful messages I sent and any stress I caused. I was just about to leave for work when I looked at the photos for the first time, and I didn’t realise it but I was using a broken monitor. The colours were completely off, and it made me think that there was something wrong with your work. Once again, I’m really sorry. The photos are beautiful.”
The voicemail ended and I put the phone down.
What the hell? Are you joking, love? All of this stress because your TV was broken? This is why you invest in a good TV. I mean, if you’re paying all that money for a great wedding photographer, you’ll want a great TV to view the photos on. Don’t look at the photos for the first time on a broken monitor and then give your photographer an aneurysm.
I don’t think I heard from the bride again after that. But I’m now thinking about giving away 4K TVs with each booking.
Haha, just kidding. Buy your own bloody TV. Just make it a good one.