For some reason, I tend to end up in slightly odd situations... Seems the absurd follows, ney stalks me. Usually, it’s because I am just trying to be nice but sadly through circumstances way beyond my control chaos trails me… One of my all-time favourite art galleries is the Städel in Frankfurt. Last time, I was there I saw a Kirchner sculpture that I found really beautiful and without thinking touched it oblivious to the massive ‘Verboten’ signs. My reverie was abruptly broken by a voice bellowing out at me with a guard running up to me. I stood frozen, gawping with open eyes still touching the sculpture (not anywhere obscene I might add!) And for some reason as the guard came closer, his voice became friendlier. In fact, he was actually quite gentle and then took my hand and moved it up and down on the piece and led me around, describing it in great detail. I thought it was a bit odd, especially as he then walked me to the next exhibition piece and repeated the process. Then slowly, very slowly an awful realisation began to dawn on me. The guard had mistaken my dumb expression for blindness. Sadly, by the time I realised this, the moment to clear up this petit misunderstanding had long looong passed. And I really did not want to hurt this man’s feelings. I meekly thanked him and suggested that surely he must be really busy guarding this big ole museum but this guy was enjoying his new role as my saviour. Then probably followed among the most excruciating 90 minutes of my life... People generally have no idea how hard it is to actually keep up the pretense of being blind! Imagine me as a sort of demented wide eyed cousin of Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder sans sun glasses. I never knew time could almost halt and move so slow.... I nearly lost the will to live. Eventually, we finished the guided tour and I tried to leave but the man was not done yet. He was determined to kill me with kindness. Despite my protestations that I could manage, he insisted of helping me out of the museum and on to a tram, where he even counted out the change to the driver for me. All eyes of the passengers were on me, I died a lil death of mortification. When the tram pulled away, I sighed... To the bemusement of everyone, I miraculously discovered my sight and jumped out at the next stop and run back as far as my lil legs could take me. But then followed another lil conundrum….:D My car was parked in the middle of the museum car park, just outside the museum’s entrance and right in my tormentors eye line. In fact, I could see him in the main hall by the front door. I kept hanging around for ages for a chance to dart to my car and drive off unseen. In the end, in sheer desperation, I went to a nearby market stall along the Main embankment and got some kind of keffiyeh scarf and dodgy lurid sun glass (think Elton John, early years). I must say, I did get some rather odd stares, as I tried to nonchalantly stroll up to my car. People must have wondered what bizarre Muslim sub cult I belonged to.... When I finally pulled out the car park, I was totally exhausted! Sometimes ‘tis a little hard being me…. :D
Posted on: Sat, 22 Nov 2014 11:53:15 +0000
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