I agreed to meet my buddy downtown at the Mother Bulgaria monument around 8PM. The residents of my home town Lom aren't known for their punctuality. I had a better chance of planting a tree and watching it grow than hoping Michael would be on time. Naturally, I resorted to my headset and switched on the shuffle button. I was forced to spend an extra 30 minutes stranded on one of the cold sidewalks because the benches that still had planks on them were occupied by either people three times my age or by shady underage gypsies, smoking discarded fags and glancing suspiciously at my new Adidas pair.
As you could probably begin to guess the first familiar face to cross the monument grounds wasn't that of Michael. Instead, I was greeted by Igi, a fellow from the gym, who happened to be out on a stroll. By the time we were done with the formalities and small talk my school-mate finally arrived! Unperturbed and as always with a 24-carat smile he made his acquaintance with Igi and on the conversation went.
I was growing increasingly hungry by the minute, as were the eyes of the surrounding gypsies, and since our chat wasn't likely to reach its end any time soon something had to be done. After a few more minutes of rigorous debating we managed to convince Igi to join us for dinner at a nearby restaurant. He made a quick trip to his car, picked up his camera and we were well on our way to feed our muscle children.
Our first mistake was picking a joint which was in the vicinity of 'Power and Motion' called "Rich" - a peaceful little hole with a balcony overlooking the Yantra. Owned by a couple of pensioners, obsessed with German football, the restaurant was the ideal place for grabbing a hot tripe soup and a chicken steak. Our second mistake was to 'drop by for just a little while and check on the boys at the gym'. It turned out that EVERYONE had decided to hit a late night training session!
Upon entering we beheld the sight of half a dozen half-naked men, each one engulfed in his own sets. The mixture of sweat, air freshener and testosterone was so thick, you could slam it in a blender, along with a dose of whey and treat yourself to some instant muscle gains!
Needless to say, it wasn't long before Igi and I were warming up with the rest of the crew, while Michael was hopelessly wondering on which end of Igi's camera to stand behind. In no time we were all psyched up, but in no case entirely ready for the out-of-the-blue cascade of blinding flashes that followed. Vlado's girl and Michael took turns in trying to sear our retinae right off, which wasn't even that bad, considering most of us had near-to-no idea how to act in front of a lens.Combining what scarcely little we knew about posing, equipment worth more than four times my monthly salary and a sheer amount of gut we pulled off some fairly decent shots.
At one point the 'photographers' got tired of following us around the gym, so we called it a wrap and made our way out into the night in one neat bundle of enthusiasm, bodily fluids and hunger.
By midnight we were finally enjoying our tripe soup and grilled chicken at "Rich", laughing at the absurdity of wearing jeans to a gym photo shoot. (I still wake up at night, silently screaming, wondering whether or not I should've picked up more appropriate clothing.) Igi took advantage of the mesmerising weather conditions as well as our vantage pont on the terrace and caught a few more shots of the vapor-surrounded monument down by the river. He even helped a family of tourists fix their own camera's settings. :)
All in all, RANDOM couldn't even begin to describe that evening. Nothing went according to plan! But then again... if I could go back in time, I wouldn't have it any other way. :)
For more of Igi's work check out his page http://www.facebook.com/i.ignatov1
