Croydon Nights: Photo Fury
You see, of late I have had little reliance on this bespoke rule and think it may have slightly slipped off my radar. That was until last week when an old friend decided it would be a really good time to take a trip down memory lane. She had compiled an album of what I'm sure can only be described as 'the worst pictures in the world' and kindly put them on Facebook for all to see. Thanks.
I was less worried about the terrible hair and the awful fashion disasters (some things never change) and more so about the really embarrassing situations that I had managed to get myself into. I seriously did not recognise any of these pictures. Where had they come from? When were they taken? And what on earth was I doing? Flicking through the album was almost like an out of body experience. So much so that I pondered on whether perhaps some kind of digital trickery technology had been used. Maybe these pictures were not me after all and actually an impostor who had cunningly sought to steal my identity? After much thought I came to the conclusion that although this was possible (I still haven't ruled it out) it was highly unlikely.
I was tempted to email the so-called 'friend' and insist that she deleted the dreadful pictures at once. I couldn't help but notice that she had tactically omitted herself from just about every one. As I browsed through each of the 60 snaps (ranging from bad to hideous) one thing was for sure and that was she didn't feature in any!
And as much as I can take a joke and I am not averse to an unflattering photo (after all I have hundreds) There was something about these particular photos that was beyond unflattering. And beyond embarrassing. They were just wrong. I had no choice but to do what I did. And that was to de-tag them. All of them. And I have to say, it felt good. Some things are definitely best left forgotten!
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