So I'm at a coffee shop, trying to get a table, but I'm thwarted by this woman blocking the only two free tables with a giant-ass painting. I could say the brushwork was obvious and derivative, but it really just looked like if The Scream were painted in actual blood. Another broad saddles up beside me and the two of us start conferring about how to best get to the blocked tables. "Do you want to see it?" the woman asks us.
"Not really," the other girl mutters, for naught, as the woman has already hoisted the 6' x 8' frame above her head. "This is the artist. I just bought it. For $5,000!"
I smile the "holy hell you're proud about getting ripped off" smile.
"Is that your bag on the back table? Can I get in there please?" I say.
"And the one by the wall? Is there a way to get around to that table?" the other girl says.
"Five thousand!"
"Right, that's great, it's just..."
"Oh, right, the bag."
She leaves within the next 10 minutes, but not before telling the entire cafe about the painting and its cost. When she leaves, she abandons her half-finished coffee for the older gay guys taking her table.
"Ma'am, you forgot your coffee..." one calls after her.
"Eh, what does she care," his companion said. "She bought a painting."
"Did she say it cost $5,000?"
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