I showed it to her and she said, "Okay, I look good in that. You can use it." I told her I take lots of pictures and never know which ones will be used.
As we left, I was surprised by the number of people in the front yard, on the driveway, and on the sidewalk. I knew it was only a matter of time before the cops showed up again.
The blonde woman then ran outside saying, "I changed my mind. Don't use that picture of me."
I told her I wouldn't, and she followed me down the sidewalk, repeating what she'd already told me. I assured her that I wouldn't use her name or picture in the story. After 15 minutes of talking, I told her nicely, "We have to go now. Shelley was sick all week, and we're cold standing out here." She said, "I hope you don't think I'm a bitch or anything. I'm just protecting my job." I said, "Yeah, I know. It's cool."
We walked half a mile down the dark street to my car. Shelley said, "I can't believe you kept talking to her. I would've been done with her after the first few minutes."
I turned my car around, and as I was heading down the street, the blonde walked over to my car with a group of guys. One stood in front of my car with his hand behind his back. She came to my window and yelled, "Get out of the car!" I told her no. She yelled again, "Get out of the car!" The guy in front of me said, "Get out of the car, motherfucker!" I figured he had a gun behind his back, but Shelley told me she thought it was a beer. I contemplated running him over and peeling out of there. Another car came up behind us and honked. The guy yelled, "You can go around us!"
I rolled the window down a bit and said, "Listen, we aren't going to mention you in the story." She said, "Hand the pictures over." I said, "I can't do that. I need them for my story." The guy said, "Give her the fucking pictures!" Now this was starting to look like a scene from a James Bond movie.
I realized the camera was in the back seat and told her I'd have to get it. I got out of the car, more pissed than scared. I took the camera and showed her the pictures. When I got to her picture, I hit Delete. Then she wanted me to go through all the photos again just to check. The battery was about ready to die, and I thought that if it did, these thugs would just want to take the camera. Luckily, this fine Sony product made it through all 15 photos. Now this blonde woman started apologizing. I ignored her, got in my car, and started to move forward. The guy in front of my car said something to her, and she nodded her head. He then moved out of the way to let me by.
Shelley didn't seem as worried as I did. She simply said, "This is what you do on weekends?"
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