I’m not smart enough or proficient enough for setups like those. Since none of us receives formal training, what we bring to the table are skills we’ve likely cultivated as a hobby, often to appease our own private peccadilloes. Those jobs I’ve just mentioned pay more because there’s increased risk involved and arguably more work. I’m not sure how to remove mortar around bricks or to chisel a small opening for a camera lens, nor do I care to learn.
I make enough. My paychecks never bounce, but they always come from a front company that is totally legit, but vague. For what it’s worth, I’m good at what I do. I never have to leave the city and I don’t scout my own assignments. In the summer, certain people are assigned to beach detail, setting up cameras inside shower stalls where women change into bathing suits. Year-round, some find ingenious ways to enter and visually document women’s locker rooms at pools, spas, and gyms.
The only drawback for me is that weekends are always busy. When everyone else is out having fun, I’ve hit four or five dressing rooms, usually in the touristy part of town. I’ve done this long enough to know what to expect and when to expect it. If nothing especially interesting shows up within a few minutes, I know of alternate locations that have worked well before.
But unlike those who know how to conceal a hidden camera which runs for hours, then edit it down proficiently, my usable videos might last for a minute tops, or at best they might last for no more than five. To correct my earlier mistakes, I try to keep my hand motionless and I don’t make a sound.
At the moment, I’ve just finished up recording a young woman who appears to be in her early twenties. On my knees in the next stall, shooting upwards, the tiny camera lens poking over the partition, I’ve managed to take an effective camera angle. She is too busy trying on swimwear and then talking on a cell phone to know what I’m doing.
These are the easy ones. Posted on every door in the changing area is a reminder that it isn’t sanitary to try on bathing suits without first donning underwear. This woman doesn’t seem to notice, but I could care less about store policy. She stays reasonably still and will be a popular upload.
What makes my work even possible is the way the cubicles are laid out. In many stores, the men’s facilities are right next to the women’s. In stores where men and women are placed far apart, my job is impossible. We usually hit the smaller stores for this reason, though once again, finding an adequate location is a task best left to someone else. As I leave, the woman continues to speak excitedly to an unknown party, entirely naked, conversing enthusiastically about some person who is a dickhead, in her words. I’ve been here long enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment