A Bag full of Polaroid Cameras

Barring my Grandmother, my Aunt Hélène is by far the most generous person in my life. As she has told me often, giving is her greatest joy, and to gift thoughtfully, after choosing carefully, is to show affection to those we love. And so of course nobody reacted with surprise when, at her most recent birthday party, she happily changed the conventional roles. Before the first appetisers started to appear, she presented us with about twenty polaroid cameras, one for each of the guests, to enjoy while dining.

Imagining ourselves true artists, each of us set about snapping the most creative shots of the evening, using the mirrors on the wall or the curve of our wine glasses to play with reflections and the bending of light. The most inspired, or perhaps impulsive among our group of friends finished their thirty shots quickly, sending flashes through the restaurant with every button press. Others waited patiently, alert to grab that perfect moment, to catch a dancing duo or smiling couple on their film.

Among the latter was my Girlfriend Indi, loving the limited camera from the moment she realised what was going on. Treasureing every attempt, she carefully set up every shot, loath to waste even a single picture. However, another of my Aunt’s generosities endangered Indi’s plan, as a delicious chilled wine was brought around, the empty glasses never remaining so for long. 

As the plentiful courses came to their end, with some guests even refusing dessert for a lack of space, music from the seventies and eighties started to play. My Uncle and his indistinguishable twin brother, both wearing identical dressed suits, moved between the tables, where they seemingly disappeared and reappeared in different spots, replacing themselves and confusing everyone. 

We lost another decade as Oldskool’s Ben Mouling grabbed the attention, faithfully reproducing Elvis’ greatest hits from the centre of the room, reducing us to silence. DJ Hélène continued the music to her liking and switched to some belpop classics by 1000 Ohm, before settling on David Bowie.

A night to be remembered, which, as is the case when having fun, came to its end way too soon. Before allowing us to depart for home, my Aunt made her rounds again, carrying a canvas bag and asking us to return the cameras she had distributed. Before long, we would receive mails announcing the winning shots, mixed in with the less impressive shots of questionable attempts. But perhaps the stories behind those hide the biggest laughs.