I tend to do decently well, in high stress emergency situations–like a stabbing (yes, I know this from experience).  I will act logically, somewhat clearly and then when the threat has subsided I’ll melt into a puddle of emotions.
I was most recently in a situation where my level of fear was heightened and I found myself surprised at my state of alertness, because I tend to get into a decent amount of risky situations. Or at least situations where I question if this is the safest execution of events, and I don’t think I’ve ever been as frightened by my own choices as I recently was.   When I say get into risky situations, I mean for example hiding in brothels from people searching for me, crossing borders with people with improper documentation–some seeking asylum, hanging out in prisons, traveling in areas forbidden to foreigners when I was one, dating men (yes, plural) with hits out on them, using authoritative government (is that redundant) regimes internet for non-sanctioned use, disseminating virtual proxies where it is verboten, assisting a friend escape institutional imprisonment–yet again I never felt the level of unease during those events as I did at dinner a couple of weeks ago.
I have friends who through dealings in their business and personal lives have been kidnapped, had family members murdered and take part in affairs I generally find intriguing from a far (here is some back ground on those friends, in an article titled Penitents, Pedophiles, Poets, Movie Stars, Silversmiths, and Drug Lords although the author very much lacks personal insight–she isn’t too far off in most of her accounts).   The thing, is when people like those in the article, gather in public they have the potential to be sitting ducks for those seeking retribution.  Usually, when we do gather, there is security in the perimeter, and a few better known people, kept arms length as security but disguised as part of the party.  Generally, things feel pretty safe– I think the closest I’ve had to an incident where I was present, was at a dance club, where some dude above me in the balcony almost dropped his bottle on me and security moved me out-of-the-way before the guy even dropped the bottle–so not big stuff.
Anyway, some how I ended up at dinner with the wives and children but without any security.  At dinner they discussed the changes since Chapo left the game, and how the fight for narco power didn’t respect women and children as it had in the past–I sat there thinking “So why the hell don’t we have any security tonight?”  Upon arrival, I’d surveyed our open air restaurant, with multiple entry and exit points, and a balcony above us with great prospect for sniper perches.  I felt like we were exposed and vulnerable, and while none of these ladies are super high-profile, their spouses and family members are–we were such easy prey.  I still don’t know why we didn’t have security and in fact none had come in armored car, which previously when hanging out with them–they would. I didn’t understand the lamenting of how it wasn’t so dangerous before but yet her we sat with less security than I have ever witnessed. I spent the night fearful, on high alert, and wondering why this felt more dangerous than ever. I am still processing.
In a related note, internally I laugh, when in the US and out with a man who wants to face the door for safety reasons. I invariable will surmise, they have no understanding how funny this is to me, and how much more practice I have of it than them.

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