Something happened.
After enjoying the features of an abstract landscape I stepped to my left a pace or two in order to appraise a grouping of three paintings.
Then a car door slammed and a woman walked toward me with a cellphone to her ear.
“Can you get here? Yeh, turn left there. Then go two blocks,” she said in a voice so loud she barely needed the darn phone if her friend was only blocks away.
["Honestly, it was quieter in Chicago!": photos by GAH]
I looked back at the scenes on canvas of old trees along a fence line and the woman joined me in front of the window.
“Yeh, turn right there.”
My gosh, I thought. Randy McNally invented maps about 100 years ago. Buy one fer Pete’s sake.
She continued to talk in a big voice while standing beside me.
The moment for art appreciation was ruined. Over. Spoiled by someone who didn’t even know I was there. Didn’t even know what I was doing there, or didn’t care.
***
If we’d been in an art gallery I would have been tempted to push the phone down her big throat. Or something.
I ask you. Should I have said something? Shushed her?
.
2 comments:
They don't want to see you - or me - or anyone outside of their immediate circle. I don't think anything you or I could say or do would mean a darned thing to them either. They are, after all, the center of the universe.
Hi bobbie,
I told the story to a friend this morning and he said that 'their ME is too big. Interesting thought.
I'm glad I kept my cool. Wouldn't want to get arrested.
Gord
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