It's amazing how just a few simple words or a few simple nonwords can make a person shrivel right up in this business. This morning a woman with long dark hair, middle-age, made me think of the word "towering," marched into the gallery. Usually someone who marches in and past me without looking around or saying anything is either on a mission to find a lost family member and doesn't give a sh#t about the art or knows exactly what they are looking at.
So I'm sitting at my desk this morning and just found out that a close family friend just lost his youngest son and I feel horrible and I'm trying not to cry and I definitely don't give a whatever if I talk to this woman or not. But this is my work, this is "my house" and I at least have to greet everyone. So I get up, even though I don't want to, and go around the massive marble column that divides our gallery in two, and I smile and say "hello" and "how are you this morning." And she says, "I just came back for a look" and I say "Oh, is there a painting you're considering buying?" (purely curious). And she looks right at me, says, "not today" (or: you're a slimy sales person, filthy, get away from me, I hate you) and marches right past me, brushing my shoulder with her searing air bubble and marches out the store. Just like that I had the value of an untouchable. God, I nearly said "fuck you." I nearly did cry after that. I don't even know why I felt so horrible about it. It was all in her body language. It was as though she pissed on my face in front of her friends or something. Fuck her anyway.
And all those horrible people who just want the rest of the world to feel bad just because they are little shits.
Ok, I'm over it. I got it out. Back to work with a smile.
Shewsh.
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