hell or high water?

I can't say I entirely blame this gentleman for not accompanying whomever by whom he may have been accompanied had they (as certainly seemed to be the case) gone into the shop apparently selling "Luxurious, innovative makeup from the creator of some of the world's most celebrated cosmetics." at luxurious and innovative prices. He should maybe have gone in and asked if they had anything to make his face match his top.

After testing my dad's theory that the problem with the battery in Nicky's car could be that the connections weren't tight enough despite the cough from the starter motor indicating that connection of some kind was in place (miniature socket set purchased, connections tightened to 11, still nothing happening) I popped into town to look at people (both those looking at people and those being looked at by people) and perform some small but vital wedding-preparations (my third finger is size R, apparently) though nothing on the scale of Nicky's two-day battle with dresses for her niece, sister and incipient sister-in-law from which she returned this evening.

Whilst waiting for her at the train station there were a couple of couples seemingly intent on unconsciously copying the stance of the two subjects in Doisneau's Avant l'Hotel de Ville for an exceedingly long time though I refrained from photographing them (even though I would have had more than enough time to change lenses) partly because they obviously wanted to be looked at and partly in case they were the bait in a trap designed to flush out photographers for the police to harrass.