fatheads

i was hanging out at my artist's open studio festivities last friday. it was really not that fun. sure, i met a lot of other artist's and got to see their current work, but it was more like some lame meet and greet at a 4-H club get together. i fucking hate meeting new people, so to take the edge off i had a few drinks before going to the event. i wasn't trying to get crazy or anything, i just wanted to mellow out a bit.

i met this kid named andrew, heavy set fellow with two months growth. he did abstract work and it really wasn't that impressive, but he was real passionate about it and spoke of it eloquently. i met his girlfriend, who looked like a young heather graham and she was all smiles. andrew was real into chatting it up with passerby, so me and young heather caroused the open studios together.

there were wine stations on every floor so every time i saw one, i reached for another glass. heather and i rapped art and she was cute and i enjoyed the company. she wanted to see my work so we made our way up to my studio on the third floor.

as we were walking to my space, she pointed out two older, white gentlemen sitting next to a wine station. "those are the two owners of the building" she said pointing them out. i picked up a bottle of half finished white from the table under the discriminating eye of one of the owners. we walked to my studio and she gushed over my pieces and machine-gunned questions at me. she really liked a painting of mine and i told her it was hers, but she insisted that she couldn't so i said that i could just trade andrew for one of his pieces.

after awhile, she said she was gonna go back downstairs and i took the remnants of the bottle of white and put it back on the table next to the two owners. one of them stood up, picked up the bottle, and said "here, you might as well finish it", like i was some sort of low-life piece of shit and it really rubbed me the wrong way. i chugged the bottle in his face.

i walked around a bit more, chatted with some more artists, but i was getting seriously bored. i saw heather again and told her about my little encounter with the owners and she giggled. i was a little tight at this point and wanted to really take a dig at the two pretentious pricks, sitting all smug in their chairs as if their shit didn't stink.

it's always been in my nature to be brash and a little brutish. i really don't like someone getting the better of me or feeling like i've been undermined in any way. several times, i've wanted to call my ex gf and tell her that she is a miserable cunt. several times, i've wanted to find jimmy choo who suckered punched me in the 10th grade and give him a what's what. but i don't, because in the end these things don't really matter.

but that night i felt like being a complete asshole, so i walked back to the wine station next to the two owners. i surveyed the bottles and picked up a nice bottle of half empty red. i made sure the two smug fatheads were watching and i took a big long swig out of it. one of them stood up and walked towards me and said "okay that's it, you're out of here". i laughed in his face and blew the other guy a kiss and walked out.

maybe it wasn't the most graceful exit ever, but i've been kicked out of finer establishments than that. do i regret my actions? no. would i do it again? probably. did it solve any problems? absolutely not, if anything i'm probably on their shit list and pending a quick dismissal from my space.

heather witnessed the whole transaction and was quite enthralled by it, like it was the most exciting thing she had seen in awhile. we met andrew downstairs and heather regaled him with the tale and by the look in his eyes, he was not much impressed. but i really didn't really give a fuck either way. really i am just glad there wasn't an eviction letter hanging from my wall on monday morning.