In which Primo asks me to take some photos of him for his campaign lit and tells me I should tell him how to pose but then gets cranky when I tell him what to do because he thinks it's dumb

Primo: Would you take some photos of me?

Me: No! I don't want to! I don't want to be involved.

Primo: Please? You're a photographer -

[Not really. I was in high school, but not any more.]

-- and you can tell me how to pose.

Me: Fine. But if I do this, you don't get to argue with me about my decisions.

Primo: OK.

We walk over to the school and I take a bunch of photos and I tell Primo to do stuff with his hands and arms and he doesn't like what I say and I tell him that if he didn't want my opinion, he should not have asked me for it and I am telling him that the pose he wants looks stupid and he needs to try what I say. We argue about where the photos should be and what should be in the background and I explain that it is not a good idea to have a tree coming out of the top of his head. I tell him that he should not be wearing his striped shirt because it confuses the camera (it did for some but not for other photos). He wants me to use both my little camera and his phone and I just want to be done.