I Moved Through the Crowd in the Cavern
The one thing I think I know about German- I’m not fucking Rembrandt.
- enough sharp medals to slit my throat
- did not have a telephone herself
- “Go ahead, kiss her.”
Tune in next time part 502 Click Here for Earlier Installments
I moved through the crowd in the cavern, trying to look casual and avoid stepping on any toes either figuratively or literally. My climbing boots could do some real damage.
The reason for the lackadaisical bidding revealed itself as I mingled. The auction of my brother Jim was, for many attendees, merely a pretext under which to meet for other forms of business. I overheard arms deals, drug deals, and stolen-art deals. The one thing I think I know about Germany’s art scene, I learned by eavesdropping on two men who were both wearing eyepatches and monocles. And that thing is, German collectors will never give a fuck about my paintings because I’m not fucking Rembrandt.
Even in my uniform, wearing enough sharp medals to slit my throat if I sneezed wrong, I felt a bit underdressed in this crowd. But not compared to the next individual I bumped into, the yeti midwife who was no longer even wearing her rainbow headband. In fact, that was what she was looking for, somehow recognizing me from our chat in the break room even without my yeti costume. She didn’t seem too mad, maybe a bit embarrassed to be interrupting me about it, explaining that she would have called but she didn’t know my number and actually did not have a telephone herself. I stalled, trying to work out what was going to happen when she looked under the buffet table. Could I just flat-out tell her, since the discarded costume apparently wouldn’t matter to her? It felt risky.
So, my conversation with the yeti midwife continued awkwardly, each of us seeming equally flustered and unsure of ourselves, until a woman in a green satin gown and thigh-high furry boots leaned over to me and said, “Go ahead, kiss her.”
bonus points for using them in order