I know how it must’ve looked. Men in short shorts ran past, eagerly trying to escape my poised camera. I leaned right back against my car, leaning into it; melting. What if someone thought I was taking creepy pictures of men thirty years older than me? I waited for another runner to pass before lifting my lens and snapping a picture of the city across the river from the small parking lot. I took a couple of pictures, then practically ran back around the car and into the drivers seat before taking a deep breath. Phew.
I think we can all agree it’s time to get over this tiresome fear of taking photos in public. Who cares if Mr. Short-Shorts thinks I’m checking him out – maybe it’ll help the ego.