We've all seen the photo booths. They're squeezed into fluorescent-lit spaces between air hockey tables and video arcades at malls. They're surrounded by teenagers waiting impatiently for their black-and-white strips at county fairs. They're hidden away in dark back corners of dive bars, filled with drunken lovers wrapped around each other. The quadrants of photos spit out by these whirring vending machines, the images that grace our refrigerators and wallets, are so familiar that we hardly pay them heed — the funny-faced pictures, the fake-angry pictures, the pretty-smiling pictures, and the requisite pictures of locked lips. The photo booth documents our most intimate moments. And at Lucky 13 on Market Street, it documents our... More >>>