My name was Rommell Trias at the first comic con I
ever attended. He was a photographer for some newswire that couldn't make it
one day of the event, and a reporter buddy was kind enough to let me tag along
with him while he worked.
His only caveat was that I had to carry around
this bulky camera, a cannon something or other, and that I had to pretend to
know what I was doing. As in, he would interview people then say "Ok
Rommell, get a couple angles, and we are done!" Then I would pantomime
what I saw all the other photographers doing and saying, "Head up a bit
please?" "Ohh this looks great!" He told me not to worry to much
that I wasn't actually taking any pictures, he would throw on stocks if worse
came to worse.
But I learned very quickly that walking around the con with
a camera was catnip to floor cosplayers, as they would stop people with
cameras unsolicited to take pictures of them. And I would oblige,
using the same tactics I learned on the famous people. Only thing is unlike the
famous people who couldn't care less what the photos looked like, seven times
out of ten the cosplayers wanted to see the pictures, which means I had
to start taking pictures.
Not that I am complaining mind you, but my buddy treated
them like homeless people begging for change outside of the 7-11. "Go on
now! GET!" He told me to stop wasting rolls on them because
he wasn't getting paid for floor shots, I asked him what was the
point of bringing a camera to the stuff he was getting paid for, since he
couldn't get paid for pictures we didn't take. He said, " Those
flash wall pics never sell, and that's why you are Rommell Trias today."
