The Art Gallery is abuzz with visitors this Friday. It’s 12:39 and the General Manager of the Gallery’s catering is pacing about busily. She leaves the Café bound for the restaurant upstairs. I run after her for a grab. She stops in her tracks. She listens. I ask. She objects. I ask again. She hesitates. I spot an opportunity. She seems resigned and gives me a look of amused impatience. Click. I say thank you and we move on.
