Dear C,
Well, I thought the celebrated British stiff upper lip might finally be wobbling, after a second round of terrorist attacks in London. What I had not reckoned on, however, was the ability of the average British teenager to thumb her nose at fear and concentrate on the truly important stuff in life. I am speaking, dear C, of my friend’s fifteen year old daughter, whose response, yesterday, to the hurried evacuation of the art gallery we were visiting was to throw a tantrum worthy of a two year old upon discovering she had left her mobile phone inside. Alas, her remonstrations to the armed police securing the area fell on deaf ears, as they apparently failed to appreciate the toll this loss would take on our precious teenager’s social life. Her mother, unfortunately, proved a much softer target, being forced to provide assurances that a new pink phone would be purchased immediately, along with a written apology for having apparently distracted said daughter into mislaying the phone in the first place.
I only hope that you and I can prove as focused, when the inevitable happens and you and I find ourselves staring down danger back in DC. Will we cut and run, do you think, dear C, or will we calmly return to wrestling with the other ladies in the sales bins at Neiman-Marcus, only to emerge, triumphant, with our bargain basement finds in hand?
Faithfully,
P.
