Knocking Pictures Off the Wall

Last night I attended a little birthday soiree at an art gallery in Montrose. It was a Mardi Gras inspired masquerade party. I never put my mask on, but I did carry it around for about an hour - which has to count for something. Nice concept, nicely executed. This is important because as we know some of the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray! Wine…sushi…all black everything…it was a pretty good look. And the shindig almost went of without a hitch. There was one little problem. The owner of the art gallery decided (unbeknownst to the birthday boy) to chaperone the revelry. You remember back in the day when you attended a “house party” that would have been off the door hinges…if the kid’s mom wouldn’t have kept coming in turning the lights back on, the music down, and making sure everyone had 6 inches between them on the dance floor? Yeah, it was like that but with a non refundable deposit.

*sigh*

The owner complained that guests were standing too close to the art, the music was too loud, and that she “smelled smoke”. Come on lady. Or as the great Ed Lover would say…c’mon son. Now, this wasn’t my party - so this really isn’t my rice bowl BUT the curator was fully aware of the fact that she was renting out her gallery for a social gathering. Typically, said gatherings are likely to include standing (perhaps even cutting a little jig), tunes, and possibly even a ciggie or two. Let the record state, no one was smoking…well except for the birthday boy…who was quite heated. But there was no lighting up of any tobacco related products (and no, no one was smoking weed either - geez people - we iz classy). The poor fella had to request that the music be turned down so low I couldn’t even decipher one song from the next. Instead of going through the trouble of setting up his equipment, the DJ could have just turned on his car radio and pulled up to the front door. It’s a shame the owner took this man’s loot and allowed him to host his birthday party at her art gallery under false pretenses. She was quite rude and unprofessional about the whole thing. At one point, I saw an alient white man walking nervously through the crowd. Yes, she had called in reinforcements. For what, I am still unsure. Most people were seated or standing. I think I was the only person who danced the whole night (they played Beyonce, what was I supposed to do?). The whole scene was mind boggling. The crowd was far from rowdy, so there was no need to bring in anyone else to further minimize the fun. For getting brand spanking new on what to expect when permitting someone to have a bash on your premises, I curse you vile woman! May your support hose eternally chafe your bum! And I stuck my chewing gum behind one of your pictures wretched woman! Heheheh.

Just kidding…or am I?