“. . . WAIT!” was all I could get out. I threw the bag over my shoulder and scurried over to the top step and desperately scanned the whirling pedestrians. Off to my left I spotted her five-foot-four head popping in and out of the crowds. To my good fortune, her modest stature is quite substantial amongst the local population. Losing sight of her for about a thirty second eternity, she surfaced once again. I continued to track her path as she appeared and disappeared from sight, first to the corner of the zócalo, then halfway down the adjacent side and into a building labeled “Banco” and officially out of sight.
Feeling pretty helpless, my attention was immediately drawn to my exposed and neglected flanks. Our car was sitting precariously parked, hazards flashing, in a spot I wasn’t sure was safe, especially with the recepcionista’s ignorance to any proper parking protocol. Behind me, five pieces of high value luggage lay perfectly vulnerable in front of the desk, and I had vote of “no confidence” in the staff to aid in any safekeeping.
After about fifteen minuets, my nervousness had elevated to near frenzy. I began to scan my assets more quickly and, as the minutes ticked, I could no longer pull my eyes from the entrance of distant bank. I was sure she went in, but for every second diverted away from that almost continually swinging front door was an opportunity to miss her exit.
‘What was taking her so long?’ I increasingly thought. ‘Maybe she already came out.’ I scanned the busy streets again. Soon, my thoughts turned toward the sinister. What if someone nabbed her? What if she got mixed-up in a corrupt police shake-down? Wow, I’ve been watching too many episodes of Locked Up Abroad . . .”