Done 1.4 Eli Gallen and his robotic portraits, Harold, Yolanda

Eli Gallen met with his friend Harold after he was laid off as a customer care executive at a call center. Eli paid for the coffee and scones, he knew Harold was very close to broke.

I am getting by as a helper on a garbage truck, at least that job is unlikely to be replaced by a robot, at least for a few years. They pay $18 hour, but if I can move up to driver, they start at $27 and they are 14 hour shifts. But even that world is changing, the biggest thing is plastic, China won't take it anymore. Turns out there is just too much of it, way too much to recycle, so after we sort it, we take it to these huge holding yards. Basically only plastic types 1 and 2 are recycled, the rest keeps piling up. But enough about me, what are you up do?

I've got a growing cottage industry, making portraits. It's all done online. People submit a high quality photo, I run it through a neural net, based on the Google Deep Dream. I have it tuned to emulate the old masters, sort of a Vermeer meets Da Vinci. The web site shows them what the portrait will look like, if they want, they can buy it. They pick their size, frame, and so forth. Started with a store front in Seattle, but it is all online now out of an industrial park. Lots of people do something similar from Walmart on, but it is just ink on canvas. My robotic printers put in brush strokes and glazes, it really looks like an old master's painting.

I thought it would just be kids, but almost a 3rd of my business is historical, people making ancestors and not just mom and dad, people are starting to ask for old time stuff. If they can scan an old photo, we can colorize it or whatever, but they want even more, Eli whispered conspiratorially. I have two contractors, all they do is go to estate sales and buy old photos. We digitize them, even modify the images so one photo can become 10 - 15 ancestors. This service isn't open to the public, you have to make a couple portrait purchases and with the second purchase, we offer a membership in our private portrait club.

Private portrait club?

Yeah Harold. People with disposable income sometimes want to spend it in unusual ways. I am working on a line drawing neural net right now. I've fed it over 10k images and it still needs work, but it's learning.

Do they ask for sexy stuff, erotic?

Ummm, yeah, they ask. That is a slippery slope if there ever was one. Unless they have purchased a number of works, the system just says no, "we are family friendly". Otherwise, you would not believe some of the things they want. For our best customers, we will work with them, that often involves using one of our photographers.

Dude, photographer, you know I have a photography business that isn't bringing in much business right? That's why I am a helper on a garbage truck.

Eli literally squirmed in his seat, this was a friend and he had a growing number of "good customers". Harold, I will throw you some business, but let's understand, nothing illegal, ever, under no circumstances. And you aren't my employee, this is my business hiring your business for a service. Come visit me at the industrial park tomorrow and I will have a terms of service, non-disclosure agreement and a job for you. There is this lady, she is a handful, but she is also a very good customer. Now, I need to get back to work.

So, the next day Harold showed up. The documents seemed reasonable. Eli gave him his first assignment, a cabin at Iron Springs, the customer's name was Yolanda. She has particular taste, he told Harold. She likes to collect young men and I mean that in several senses of the word.

Harold stayed up late trying to research tips on boudoir type photography. There wasn't much consensus, except for some tricks to soften focus and lighting, but a few things stuck in his head. He drove out to Copalis and found her cabin. It would take him several trips to bring all of his gear, photography, like shooting or fishing seems to require tons of support equipment. He knocked on the door. A manbot wearing only briefs answered. May I help you, the robot inquired, you may call me Jeeves.

Harold was dimly aware that some people had personal robots, there were even male and female dolls that some people got intimate with, but he had never seen one. I'm Harold, the photographer, he stammered. Jeeves, opened the door, next he saw a large German Shepard Dog, Jeeves introduced her, this is Ahuva girl. Harold nodded, and brought his bag in. I have more gear I need to get, he said. Jeeves nodded, I'll help you and they walked out to his car together. Jeeves grabbed several of the Pelikan cases, probably 70 kilos, lifted them as if they were nothing and walked into the house.

The lady of the cottage is indisposed for the moment, but you can start setting up, the shoot will be out here by the fire. Harold nodded and started to assemble reflective screens and lights. Thank goodness for LEDs he thought, they used to be so hot. In his mind, after making sure there was not harsh lighting, he replayed some of the things he had just studied.

Shoot from a high position. If the woman is a bit lower than the camera, it can telegraph submission and that can add to the sizzle factor of the shot.

High heels, they can accentuate the curve of the calf.

Hand in the hair, or better, blow the hair, he had brought a Noctua fan and stand.

Accentuate the curves, obliques to the camera.

If she was willing to do some shots laying down, don't leave her flat, he had a few burgandy pillows velvet pillows to help prop her chest and head off the ground.

The door opened and Yolanda came out of the bedroom, an extraordinary woman, black, asian, probably something else, he wouldn't have to worry about accentuating her curves. She was wearing a see through negligee, plunging lace up neckline that met the short skirt on the bottom that swirled as she walked, intricate lace work. Gentle smile, delicate face, hair tied up in a loose ballerina style bun.

Harold knew he should say something, words would not come. Yolanda walked up to him, looking him in the eye, invaded his personal space till she was pressed lightly against him, placed a hand on the lower curve of his butt, touched her full soft lips to his, not a kiss exactly, he could feel warm air flowing from her nostrils across his face, slid the tip of her tongue across his lips, and simply said, you must be Harold, he felt her lips move against his as she spoke, and then she stepped back, turned her back to him and walked away slowly, swivel hips that some women are able to master.

Are you ready to meet the star of our shoot, she purred.  Lenny, will you join us. A barefoot young man in slacks and a sport shirt, poked his head out of the bedroom. Start shooting Harold. No stranger to boudoir photography, she picked up one of the satin pillows, arranged herself halfway between sitting on the couch and laying down, one leg stretched out, the other knee up in a demure fashion, pillow under her neck, chin down. Harold could easily frame her and the fire, Ahuva for good measure, Jeeves had retired to a corner and plugged himself in.

Harold, long distance shot, Lenny entering the room, he sees me, just keep shooting. Lenny, slowly walk towards me, turn your body to face Harold, bring your face to mine. Yolanda knew exactly what she was doing, Harold desperately trying to focus on framing the action.

Yolanda appreciated Harold's professionalism, but withheld judgement until she saw his work, it's all about image baby. The man really did have a good eye, Lenny had hammed it up properly, these might be worth gold when Lenny Jr., child of Yolanda was fully baked.  Lenny had left, Harold was packing up with Jeeves helping, (and keeping an eye out so he didn't steal the silver). Harold, I'll just be a minute I'm going to grab a quick shower, if you don't mind, wait till I can say goodbye to you in person.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A piece of the action

When silence doesn't mean consent

Sorry for a millionaire from 1.7 deleted, maybe can reuse