"I can't let you out of my sight!
Do I have to put a leash on you?"
Canary Wharf, London
in the heart of London's modern financial center:
Canada Place in Canary Wharf.
Don't say leash!
I spent my early childhood tied on.
"Why would you do something so stupid?
I never know what you're going to do!"
I decide silence is the best recourse.
He's never mentioned a leash before.
I'm struggling to stay up with the E-Pas he stomps blindly through the busy mall.
"Don't you ever think before you do something?
Why? Why don't you think?"
A Happier Moment
I have to say something.
"I just thought it would make such a cool picture.
You know, the way that bank of red ATMs curved.
The composition, the color.
You getting money."
"You and that damned camera!
Do you even get why there was a female guard?"
I flash back to exiting the bank
when a very tall man
and a short woman
swoop in, blocking my way.
"You were taking photographs, Mam,"
challenges the Tall Suit.
I took one of my husband getting money.
I hold up my camera.
Meanwhile the E-P has noticed I'm missing.
He hurries back.
"We have a policy
that you can't take photographs in our bank,"
says Tall Suit.
Short Suit is standing there silently.
"You want me to delete it!?"
I break out in a sweat.
I'm not sure how to do that.
Why didn't I read the damn manual?
I start pushing buttons.
"Do you know how to delete?"
I ask anxiously, looking up at Tall Suit.
"You have to delete it."
I'm now frantically punching any button.
The Two Suits are very close.
"She's just nervous," says the E-P.
"She doesn't know how to delete.
She's got thousands and thousands of photos,
and she never deletes one.
Finally Tall Suit takes charge.
The incriminating photo vanishes.
"See, gone," I say.
"It was just of my husband.
It was such a cool shot.
Those curvy, red ATMs."
I shut up, seeing the look on Terry's face.
"A word to the wise, Mam," says Tall Suit.
Don't. Take. Photographs. In a bank.
Especially our bank."
The Suits escort me through the door
and into the mall.
"Have a good day, Mam."
They melt away.
"Do you even get why there was a female guard?"
Mr. Normally Reserved bellows.
"Ah, . . . She happened to be on duty?"
I answer as I scramble after him.
"She was there to strip search you."
"Strip search you!
Take you in a room and search your body cavities.
All of them!"
I stop, floored.
And enfolds me.
He's more shaken up than I am.
"It's okay, Baby.
could you think
before doing something?"
He gives me a long hug
in the mall full of strangers.
"Let's get some coffee," he says,
grabbing my hand tightly
and looking around.
I love all the ways the E-P says,
"I love you."
One small example of why I call my blog
Standing Into Danger.
I can be heading into calm blue water,
and I will manage to run aground
on the one pile of rocks
lurking beneath the surface.
I have a special talent for Standing Into Danger.
International Code of Maritime Signals
U ~ Uniform
You are Standing Into Danger