This day was different. There were tourists taking pictures on the letter box side of the post office. They were excitedly taking pictures of everything -- the boxes, the counters, the light fixtures, the granite floors -- and they were pleased as punch to be able to get these pictures. From my pictures you can't tell, but there were at least 10 of them. No, I didn't think they were a terror cell because a terror cell would not draw this much attention to themselves and members of a cell probably don't giggle and let their voices get so high pitched. They would take a picture and then race in front of the other and take a picture of that person taking a picture and back and forth but always moving forward. At times they took pictures of each other stopped and from behind. It was like some weird photographic ballet. Of course, I joined in the action.
They didn't even notice me taking their pictures. They liked taking pictures of each other from behind. They liked making noise and conversed happily in a mystery language. (Seriously. I have no clue. It wasn't French, Spanish, Japanese, any of the Chinese dialects, Russian, Portuguese, Italian, or German.) Their photographic ballet was thrilling to them. They were so very pleased to be there. When I stopped to put away my phone, one of the building guards had come over and was barking at them to stop taking pictures, that taking pictures in that facility were not allowed. (News to me, but I didn't look up or acknowledge this interaction. I go there every day.)
Next, everyone, including me, moved outside and there was much excitement about Flamingo. I even offered my services to take a picture of three of them together with Flamingo behind but not before I managed to snap off one more picture of someone taking a picture of her friend and Flamingo.
It's been very slow at work so this was a most exciting five minutes!
|"I can't believe I am seeing this for myself!"|
|"Make like you're going somewhere."|
|"What is this large woman doing over my right shoulder?"|