Memory is a fragile faculty, subject to time, lies, alcohol abuse and a hundred different chemical errors that could erase the unforgettable as easily as yesterday’s lunch.
Your favorite childhood friend won’t survive your teens, your first love will melt into half a bottle of whiskey, and those guys you befriended last night over said whiskey won’t last till the morning. But that’s why we’re so attached to cameras.
15 years ago I blew an summer’s salary on a camera, the cherry on top of a long-overdue vacation to Cyprus. We had a great time there, no doubt filled with wine, women and loud song; but I remember nothing. Well, except that my camera was stolen.
‘No you idiot, you gave it to me,’ one friend explained, ‘or did I pack it by accident then just keep it?’
Good stuff.
More curious now than anything, we raided his attic and struck gold: decade-old film. In half an hour we were at a shawarma stand waiting for the nearby store to work its magic on my negatives.
‘It probably has 36 – how many shots could you take those days? – 36 shots of bikini-clad women. That’ll be fun.’
What a waste; bikini pictures were worth their weight in homework, back in high school.
‘It might be those shots we took when we were smashed on the beach,’ offered another friend. That would be embarrassing; no one wants photographic evidence of stupidity.
A shot of the abandoned shirt we didn’t steal? That drunk Brit who tried to warm up to one of the girls? Could it be one of the many rolls we blew to make fake-IDs, or the one we used underwater with the cheap waterproof casing?
Probably not. We would probably get a bunch of boring, uneventful shots we took of trees, pedestrians or Dionysus.
‘Or it could be those shots we took of Karl?’
Everyone was dazed: a thief and an idiot.
Even if I weren’t busy with the bill, I had no chance of catching up with him. By the time I got to the store, the film was lost, and our friendship saved.
A bottle of Jack says that I’ll bruise this friendship over the weekend.
Written for Time Out Beirut
I'm Karl, and I'm an acquired taste.
I've been an editor for 4 years, a writer for 5 more, and a geek ever since I wrote Pong on my first Atari. I'm married to the perfect woman and we live in the desert. 
so, we get to the see the pics?
bikini babes of the 90s bikini babes of the 90s bikini babes of the 90s bikini babes of the 90s
and I’d like to have a drink too, save me some
appreciate the compliment, of all the “bikini babes” you could have used, you chose me
I am now immortal, in a sense..
excellent writing, BTW. I’ll have to keep up with the blog now!
@Jakey
Yes ma’am. I will personally see to your immortality. Thanks for letting me put you on display