Guarding His Insecurities

(My older sister and I are visiting the various monuments and sights of Washington DC. Today we are at an art museum, and my sister happily chats with the security as we go through their metal detector and such. We are about fifteen minutes into the visit, looking at a section which displays “The Art of War,” including items such as weapons and armor. While looking at an amazingly decorated shield, this happens:)

Sister: “Ooh, wow! This is amazing. [My Name], let’s get a picture.”

(As she is taking out her camera, a security guard loudly clears his throat to catch our attention. He points at small sign on the entryway to the room, about the size of a large index card, at waist-height that says, “Please, no photography.”)

Guard #1: “You can’t take any pictures.”

Sister: “Oh, I’m sorr—”

Guard #1: *condescendingly* “Can’t you read?”

(My sister has moderate to severe dyslexia and always struggled with reading in school, so this statement really gets to her. Disheartened, she puts her camera away and starts to leave.)

Sister: *quietly to me* “Let’s go. I don’t want to stay anymore.”

(While I’m usually non-confrontational, this situation has emboldened me, so I approach the guard.)

Sister: *louder* “[My Name], please, let’s just leave.”

(I stop, but can’t help but the notice that the guard is smiling smugly. I take note of his name-tag. As we leave, the security personnel we chatted with at the entrance comments:)

Guard #2: “Hey! Leaving so early?”

Sister: *purposefully leaves without speaking*

Me: “I’m afraid [Guard #1] killed our interest.”

(The second guard’s face turned sour; it seemed to me that they’d had issues before. The rest of the trip was amazing, but we never went to another art museum.)