I have about 40 minutes to kill before I meet an environmental circuit prosecutor for the State of California. I stop at a McDonalds near downtown Modesto, after passing through an arch that says “Modesto—Water, Wealth, Contentment, Health.” I don’t have much of a choice in restaurants, when I am short on time and a stranger in a strange land.
The security guard saunters over to a woman wearing a red wig and speaks under her breath, while the woman in the red wig continues to eye-ball me, popping her dentures up and down, up and down.
I try to eat my fries but they are cold and lifeless and what little appetite I have is fading fast. I open up the burger and the bun is as hard as the stares I'm getting from denture face and rent-a-cop. I toss the food in the trash and walk outside, take a deep breath and say I’ll just head to the assignment early. Being a photographer isn’t easy in more ways than one.
