Ye Xiangtin from Yelou Village in the Yangzhunag Township of Wugang City, Henan Province, China, had two problems.
The first, that any stories written about him would contain abominably long first sentences with place names that most chaps or gals in the Western hemisphere would only try to pronounce if drunk or piqued or offered large sums of money.
The second, well, read on...
Ye Xiangting paid a visit to his local Yangzhunag police station to get a required photo for his ID.
He sat with the number he had drawn.
He listened to the drone of conversation and Muzak.
He twiddled his thumbs.
He dozed for a while, dreaming of far off beaches covered with Gummi worms, talc and strangely torn financial magazines.
Suddenly, it was his turn.
He sat in front of the camera.
He smiled.
He was told not to smile.
He stopped smiling.
A photo was taken.
But here I tell you that although the shutter closed and the machinations machined, no image appeared.
They tried again.
No joy.
They checked the camera.
No problems could be found.
The checked Ye's clothes, checking for anything that could interfere with the equipment.
They sat Ye down and photographed him from every angle.
No matter what they did, no photos of Ye Xiangting would appear.
When the staff had people stand with Ye, the people would appear.
Ye would not.
The staff gave up.
Ye Xiangting said this has never happened to him before.
The police station chief said there had been two similar cases. They are unclear as to why.
But we know why, don't we?
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