Attention models! Beware of this photographer!

I'm not the type of person to talk behind someone's back, but this guy is weird and I think people deserve to know that before setting up a shoot. The Model Mayhem name is Source Exposure. I don't know the photographer's name. He posted a casting call that sounded cool to me, so I expressed my interest and got a rather hostile response. He seems to think that we had scheduled a shoot before, to which I did not show up. Of course, this is not the case, as I take modeling seriously and would never do something like that. I've never talked to this man before, let alone scheduled a shoot with him. I tried to express that to him, just for the sake of clearing my name, but he refused to believe me. So, I just want to warn models that he apparently has an active imagination. My exchange with him may have been harmless (albeit irritating and insulting), but for all you know, he could one day insist that you promised he could submit those private, personal nudes to Hustler. That would be quite unfortunate. I feel like I've witnessed a bout of schizophrenia before my very eyes. This complete stranger thinks he knows me, and not only that, he hates me! It's all too bizarre.

I approached the group of people standing outside Bret Michaels's tour bus, wanting to make conversation to distract myself from that pesky nervousness I always get. "Do you think he'll be signing autographs?"

"I don't think so," she said. "I told the roadie who I am and that Bret knows me, but he was so rude. No wonder my brother fired him."

"Aww, that's too bad. I'm surprised he wouldn't even let you say hi, since you know Bret."

"I even brought my photo album to prove it. Those roadies are so rude. This never happens to me at Steven's concerts."

I thought it was cool that she was related to someone in a band. Because she knew Bret Michaels, I wondered if maybe she was referring to Stephen Pearcy.

"Remember how tight the security was at the last Aerosmith show?" she asked to her friends.

"Wait, you're related to Steven Tyler?" I asked.

She hesitated, then said, "I'm his sister."

"LYNDA?!" I exclaimed. She didn't look like the photo I have of Lynda, but people change, I supposed.

"No, I'm Annie. You know Lynda?"

"Um, no," I said. I wasn't about to try to explain.

"No I'm a close friend of the family. We've considered each other brother and sister for years and years." She went on to tell me more about Lynda and other family information that I think I should keep secret.

"Wow, I can't believe you're Steven Tyler's sister!" I said. My excitement got her excited too, and she pulled out her photo album, flipping through to show me photos of herself with Steven, Joe, Tom, and Teresa. She went on talking about serious things, and I was sad to learn that the Aerosmith situation really is so bad. I had hoped that the media was exaggerating it, but Steven and Joe really can't get along at all.

Then we all got into the concert for free.

After the show, I didn't see Annie again. It made me sad, because I never got to convey to her how special it was that I met her. I told her that Aerosmith had been my favorite band since I was twelve, but that really means nothing at all. I wanted to tell her that she was so rock and roll, that she was the coolest person this town had ever seen. I wanted to tell her that her brother has touched my life in a way that no one else has. He's what influenced me to be who I am. Everything I think and say and do is because I grew up following him. I wanted to tell her these things, but I didn't have the chance. How do you really explain that to someone, anyway?

So, Ms. Annie Not-Tallarico, if you're out there, I just want to say, you're so rock and roll.