OK, buddy, the jig is up! Come forward and identify yourself

Just who is that guy? His presence in the photo above intrigues me. If I let it do so, it might even haunt me. He seems out-of-joint in the picture; like he has been Photoshopped in.

You can see him, can’t you? If you cannot I am going to be really bothered and fear for my sanity. See, in this photo of the fountain in Trafalgar Square he is on the left side about 3/4 of the way along, leaning on the side of the fountain and looking obliquely in the direction of the camera. Actually, he is looking at something else. What? He has a moustache and is a bit lean-of-face.

It seems like he has just been dropped into the picture. All of the other people are looking towards the fountain but he is looking back in the direction (sort of) of the photographer – namely me.

What’s his story? Is he spying on his wife who is engaged in a tryst with her art-loving milkman? I say that because the National Gallery is within his sights and perhaps he’s spied them on the steps. And English milkmen are notorious for the amount of action they get from lonely housewives.

Or is he a mobster who has been commissioned to carry out a hit and is looking for his intended victim in the crowd. Maybe he is an international terrorist with plans to nail the aforementioned National Galley in a gesture that would sap the morale of the United Kingdom or because he has a special aversion to the artistry of Constable. Are there timed TNT sticks or a ‘plastique’ strapped under his jacket?

Anyway, there is something that happens when you take photos that include unknown people. You know, a bit like that excellent movie Blow Up in which the photog, taking multi-frames, actually sees a murder taking place that is not immediately visible when looking through the viewfinder. I mean, I didn’t see that fellow when I was taking the picture, but now my eye goes directly to him.

A number of years ago I went to a photo shoot at our local air force base to grab pictures of the Queen who was paying a call. I got some terrific shots of relatively up-close stuff. Then, at the end of the day, I realized, because I was so determined to get some good shots, that I hadn’t really looked at the royal lady except through my viewfinder. I almost felt cheated out of an experience.

Somehow that is sort of analogous to the unknown man in my photo. Anyway, if he shows up in any other pictures, I am going to be rather unnerved.

I think it’s up to him to step forward and identify himself.


9 responses to “OK, buddy, the jig is up! Come forward and identify yourself

  1. Forgive me….this usually means I don’t expect you will but I’m going to say it anyway…..but we have to nail this milkman myth.

    Now, while Englishmen fantasise about relationships with Lulu LaTarte, film star, or the Honourable Delicia Placket, daughter of fifty earls, they view their wife’s ambitions in that direction to be bounded by someone of much more lowly status…the milkman.

    It’s a class thing.

  2. Fly: I had never really thought of milkman boinking as a status issue but, of course, you are right. I had always thought it was a matter of opporunity. Milkman Myth indeed.

  3. Oh, I know that guy. That’s Boris. He’s a russian. Actually, he didn’t have a mustache when he moved over there but he felt he needed one. To live up to certain stereotypes, you know. And he suffers from a very serious pigeon phobia, poor guy. Hence the look.

  4. I bet he’s just resting. I’m probably in many strangers’ photos doing something everyone else is not. Maybe he’s just weird like me. And if he is like me, he is looking for the nearest pub.

  5. I knew exactly who you were talking about.

    He looks suspicious. 🙂


  6. I figured if anyone would have his number, it would be you, Pearl. I’d count on you for that. Does he happen to be Boris, as ChooChoo suggested?

  7. The Milkman myth does exist! At least it did in the town I lived in on the South Island of New Zealand. Get this – his name was Murray Milmine. Murray Milmine the Milkman. And yes, he was having a rather public affair with the wife of the dairy store owner. In New Zealand, the corner stores are known as Dairy’s.
    But I digress. The man in the photo is definitely suspect. Bulgarian I believe. Or Russian. KGB. Too bad you can’t see his poisoned-tipped umbrella in the photo.

  8. Personally, my postman was much better looking…

  9. Mr. Jazz and I play the “who is (s)he” game at the airport, waiting for flights. I love making stories up about people in an airport.

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