Moments later, at ground level, the Human Being is stopped by a trio of plain-clothes airport staff.
'Excuse me, sir, but we couldn't help noticing that you were taking photographs up on the sixth floor of the car park. It looked as if you were taking pictures of a little thing. A bird?'
'Er, are you security?'
'Yes, sir, we are.'
'Oh. Well, actually (fumbling in bag) I was taking some pictures of, um, my gnome.'
By now the trio are in the full-on presence of Mr G.
The HB continues feebly: 'He has a website.... He isn't political.'
A pause. The prospect of internment looms briefly.
But, once again, the 'G-force' has its semi-numinous effect.
The trio smile and move on.
Mr G and the HB continue to check-in, both strangely encouraged by the vigilance and politeness of these watchful guardians.
(Grateful fraternal acknowledgment re headline.)