No, Scary Man, I will not get in your van

A while back, I answered an ad to be an unpaid assistant when needed for a fashion photographer. I thought it would be helpful to see what lighting techniques he uses. The other day he calls and wants to know if I'm free Thursday. The voicemail was normal enough. I call him back, he tells me he's shooting Helmut-Newton-style in an old theater north of Manhattan. I have no idea if that just means black-and-white or pictures of a vagina. He tells me to email him and he'll email me the info. So, I send him an email...

Hi [photographer],

Just a follow up email from our phone call... I'd be happy to assist Thursday. I can't read my handwriting about where the Starbucks is where you're meeting that morning, so please send me the time and location and I'll be there.

Thanks,

Madeline

I get an email back titled "Thursday callsheet." The call sheet is supposed to name everyone in the crew, locations, times, and maybe even what the purpose of the shoot is. The entire email labeled "call sheet" says...

Meet time 9:00 AM

>

Where: Starbucks on West 43rd and 9th Ave. Meet silver mini van on West
43rd. I am tall with black polar fleece sweater

>

Thanks

>

Um... Seriously?

So, I don't reply. Great. 9 a.m. Got it. Weirdo.

But there's something not right about it. While watching ANTM, I tell LV that I feel like I need to take a picture of the van's license plate to email to him so they know what vehicle to look for if I go missing. He's completely opposed to the idea of me going on this shoot. I start to think I really don't want to go either. Sure, a real psychopath probably would have made up a call sheet with names and phone numbers, but that doesn't mean I have to give up my day to someone who would call that a call sheet.

I get a voicemail from the photographer around 10 p.m. He wants to know if I'm doing this shoot. Um... Didn't I say I would? Now I really don't like him.

I email the photographer to let him know how creepy the whole thing seems. First there's a new email to me simply saying "Starbucks 9 a.m. Look for the Japanese crew." I don't find that to be reassuring. Where are we going...? He replies right away to my new email about how creepy the whole thing is by telling me I can Google him. This has never been an issue before. He really needs me to assist today. It's a public place. I can just not get in the van.

Um... I'm not gonna get up early to travel an hour to not go to the shoot. I'll just make that decision from here. Also, Google me.

Part of me--the part that likes to second guess a lot--thinks it's terrible I bailed on this guy. And the rest just thinks, No, pasting part of an old email doesn't show nearly enough respect for how much my day is worth.