Observations from the Gallery

Some days go fast at the gallery with people actually talking, shopping, and buying. I, meh, so far I do more talking than selling. Other days are totally a social affair. The same assorted ‘regulars’ hanging out all day drinking coffee and discussing the latest shows and other topics of interest. Other days are slow, usually weekends, with fewer people coming in and Ash and I playing card games and reading magazines. This is our secret.

Than there are days like yesterday.

There comes a time when you just need to tell off somebody. Tell them how much you dislike them, their opinion, and the very ground they move on. Yesterday was such a time.

In comes this guy. I would like to say he is straight and just misinformed but sadly I know this isn’t true. Dressed like the rakish gay rogue he chooses to think he is, right down to the flower in his lapel, he looks like a gay fantasy version of the godfather. Not on one of the regulars but a friend of one, he considers himself quite the art critic and proudly gives his opinion on piece after piece. Style doesn’t matter, he hates it all. I think he just likes to hear himself talk.

But than he spied my portfolio sitting on a table.

He proceeded to spit forth his venom and as he did I’m told my face got redder and redder. Now I don’t have a temper, in fact I’m a very calm person. Really I am, oh come on, ok I have a temper that gets the best of me sometimes. Granted he has a bad opinion of everything but the more he talked the warmer the room felt. Normally I couldn’t care less what he has to say and actually have to laugh sometimes. Just to see what new descriptions he can come up with. But this was my portfolio. A little piece of me.

In the end, me being me, I didn’t tell him it was mine and egged him on, letting him dig his grave deeper and deeper before I finally lost it. I won’t get into details but I went on a five minute tirade loosely sprinkled with words like fuck, pompous, ass, pretentious, and I think fuck again. He huffed and puffed like, well, a pompous ass and stomped out. I stood and fumed as he walked out claiming he will never return. Than I had to laugh as scattering of applause filled the room. Even he friend said ‘well done’.

I’m sure he will be back today drinking coffee, giving his opinions, but maybe just a bit more respectful.

I felt bad. I felt good. It was one of those days.

tuneage