Caffeine, Dopamine, and Testosterone

Nikon Df & Nikkor 25-50/4 AiS

Jul 12, 2026

Yesterday was one of those days you could easily sum up in a single word: "uninspiring." Morning barber appointment, grocery shopping right after, then the gym, followed by whipping up lunch and dealing with kid duties. The afternoon was my time off. Time to meet up with a buddy, wander around a local neighborhood event, and eventually grab some coffee, cake, and catch up on life. I headed to the event with the mindset that it was going to be a photographic bust, but it’s practically right outside my door, so I figured I might as well take a walk.

The Neighborhood Block Party

Once a year, usually in July, the neighboring estate hosts a community get-together for the locals. Admission is free. A mini funfair rolls in with bounce houses, event tents, an outdoor stage, and a few food trucks. In one section, a DJ spins background tunes while people eat their grub, and the other section features comedy acts or lesser-known local bands. This year was no different. All of it set up in the clearing right next to the church.

I met up with Michał on-site, and we began our leisurely hunt for shots. We arrived shortly after 5:00 PM; it wasn’t too crowded yet, but things were slowly kicking off. Unfortunately, by our lofty standards as absolute street photography cool cats, there wasn’t a whole lot happening.

Gear-wise, Michał brought along a wide-angle converter for his Fuji X100VI to test out, and he was dead set on showing me a funny quirk. Turns out, inside the OVF, there was a clear indicator showing that the frame was falling way outside the framelines. I had the exact same thing happen on my X-Pro3 whenever I mounted a wider lens. That made sense back then, because my Color Skopar 21mm f/4 roughly covered the entire OVF. This converter changes the field of view to 19mm (a full-frame equivalent of 28mm). The catch is, based on what actually came out in the photo, the framelines would have easily fit within the OVF’s physical field of view. But I guess Fuji’s engineers just didn’t anticipate that someone might attach their own official converter - that would be crazy, right?

As for me, I opted for my long-neglected Nikon Df paired with the Nikkor 25-50mm f/4 AiS. Every single time I grab this combo, it absolutely blows my mind just how superb this lens really is.

We did about two laps around the event. We put up a bit of a fight trying to squeeze out some decent compositions, but ultimately decided it was time to hit up the nearby cultural center for a coffee. And along the way, we had a little adventure.

Are you guys photographers?

The question came from a girl walking with her boyfriend, who was visibly excited by the fact that we were carrying cameras.

“What gave it away?” I asked.

Not easily deterred, she replied that it was because we had “big, pretty cameras.” I couldn’t argue with that. We were busted. Our cover was blown.

“Could you take a picture of us?”

Let’s pause for a second here. Generally speaking, photographers fall into two camps: those who mind this kind of request, and those who don’t. On that particular day, we definitely leaned toward the former, mostly because we were already feeling the undeniable pull of coffee. I tried to throw Misiek under the bus, but he assertively held his ground, leaving me alone on the battlefield. I either had to say no or just roll with it.

Instead, my inner wise guy took over. “Alright, but I’m warning you,” I said. “I don’t have Instagram (true), I don’t have Facebook (true), and I mostly just shoot for myself (partially true).”

The girl looked at me in disbelief. “But is it going to be in the local paper or something?”

“Nope,” I replied. “I don’t work for the press; I just take these photos for myself.” Was that a hint of disappointment on her face?

“Well, do you at least have an email address?”

“Nope, I don’t. I’m 100% analog. My buddy and I arrange our meetups via carrier pigeon.”

“Well, maybe you could print it out and we could meet up somehow? I can pay you...” At that moment, I realized my sarcasm was flying completely over her head. “Just write down your email for me,” I said.

Of course, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t start snapping away the second she started using her boyfriend’s back as a desk to write down her email. Halfway through, the guy got a little tense and asked if she was writing down her phone number too - because if she was, she should give me his number instead. I just smiled and told him, “Relax, I’m married with three kids. I can’t afford the alimony.” I think that finally got him to loosen up.

I had them pose against a colorful wall and fired off a few shots. I managed not to lose the slip of paper with their address. I’ll send them the photos later.

You know, if I don’t forget.

Caffeine, Dopamine, and Testosterone

We finally sat down for coffee. Right at the entrance, I managed to snap a beautiful mural next to a brick trash can. We ordered some ice cream, some Coke Zero, and caught up on recent events. Time was passing pleasantly, the caffeine and the sugar from the ice cream were starting to circulate in my veins... and looking back on it now, I think that cocktail of caffeine, dopamine, and testosterone (I did kick my own ass at the gym that morning, after all) - plus actually looking like a human being after visiting the barber - meant that while I normally would have just let it go, this time it was absolutely out of the question.

I was sitting in a way that gave me a clear view of that mural through the window. And leaning against that very trash can, right by the mural, was a nice-looking blonde in a pink shirt and light blue jeans, lighting up a cigarette.

I gave Misiek a stage whisper - meaning I could be heard throughout the entire café.

“HOLY SHIT, I’VE GOT THE SHOT.”

Misiek just turned around and gave an appreciative nod. In a fraction of a second, I grabbed my camera and bolted. I only just managed to notice Michał’s eyebrow twitching in surprise.

I rushed over to the girl and politely asked if I could take her photo, because she looked absolutely incredible in that outfit, and the cigarette was an absolute must for the shot.

Like a kid in a candy store, I got a little greedy and took a few very similar frames, but I narrowed it down to my three favorites. In about a year, I’ll probably figure out how to pick out the one.

Of course, the lady asked what the photos were for. And I told her they were just for me. I don’t have Instagram (true), I don’t have Facebook (true), and if anything, I’d just post them on a blog read by maybe three people (partially true). Fortunately, she didn’t have a problem with you guys reading this.

The whole situation absolutely made my day.

One Last Lap

After coffee, we headed back to the event and did one last lap. The only thing that really stopped us in our tracks for a while was the sight of two absolutely hammered dudes dancing like the world was ending, right in front of the stage where some reggae-style band was playing.

It was well past 6:00 PM by then, edging closer to 7:00, and the crowd had definitely thickened up. A lot more people had shown up. Funny enough, considering this party was practically in my backyard, I spotted maybe two or three familiar faces the whole time.

After that final loop, we made our way to the car, and called it a day. The moral of the story is this: great shots are sometimes waiting for you right outside your front door. You just have to get out there and look for them. And sometimes, they’ll just find you.