Love an Artist Marry a Banker
July 16th, 2005 § 17 Comments
A woman came in today requesting a painting by a specific local artist. The painting was here last week when she was in. The painting was gone of course. She was upset because she wanted to purchase it for her daughters wedding. The woman stood there, angry at herself for not purchasing it, mumbling how she “didn’t know what she was going to do because her daughter really wanted that picture as a wedding present”. “She’s marrying a banker you know”, she said.“She loved and artist once, but she’s marrying a banker”. Why she decided to share that with me I’ll never know. I was wishing she would depart because I was having lunch with Matt and he was waiting for lunch. “He’s from an old banking family” , she prattled on. I said something properly conciliatory and left her alone to look at some other pieces.
I was in the other room when Matt walked in and asked me, not so softly, if I’d received my belly button bar from the jeweler. I had a couple of belly button bars and a belly button ring, incorporating some of my grandmother’s old gem stones, made by a jeweler I met while in London. I had met and done some painting and photos for him the winter before last when I was there on a months break. I had sent him the stones and a design months ago, and had indeed finally received the completed jewelery.
The “lost out on the painting” lady heard us talking, she meandered over and asked outright if she could see my belly button bar because she had always wanted to see one up close. I was wearing a dress so I kind of looked at her funny and she said “honey I’m not a “lethsbian“, I am just interested in seeing it because my daughter has always wanted one.” For some reason I took her into the back room lifted up my dress and showed it to her. ( just trying to keep the customer satisfied)
The woman had her face almost plastered on my abdomen for a few minutes making exclamations about how nice it looked, what a nice job the jeweler had done and so forth. She then said “it looks lovely but my daughter can’t get one, she’s marrying a banker you know“.
What do you say to that?
Exactly.
On her way out she said. “I liked your panties. I’d like my daughter to wear panties like that but you know………….she’s marrying a banker”.
“She loved and artist once but she’s marrying a banker.”
That will stick in my mind for some time .
She just wanted to see your belly.
But her daughters marrying a banker, so it wouldn’t be right. She has to trick you into it.
Wait, why didn’t you just undo it and hand it to her?
That’s almost as strange as the time two girls asked me to try out a pair of boxer briefs because they said I looked like their friends’ size. I did it, but if they had asked me to model it I would have walked the other way very quickly.
What’s that song you have posted?
“She loved and artist once but she’s marrying a banker.”
Such is life.
Sucks.
since when don’t bankers like belly button rings? I suppose she thinks that bankers wives have to wear solid steel panties and must never, never show their belly button. You should have asked her to show her panties, so you could find out what a proper wife wears, as she is obviously an expert. And then tell her that the painting is being scanned so the image can be transfered to some thong panties.
This story has so much possibility. Share more, even if you have to make it up? Was the painting the mother wanted to buy by her former mother? Did the bride to be have a similar mantra as her mother, going around telling everyone, “I’m marrying a banker?” Maybe she should find a nice framed print of a dollar bill or a stock certificate.
Funny story. I’m sure bankers are perverts, but not with those who marry them.
Painters and bankers moving around in this chick�s life. And above all that, a mother with a wagging tongue. Seems the little things can spell out a story all on their own if you connect the dots, eh?
Rock on!
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thatoldsoul: It wasn’t exactly a trick it was pretty outright, and if someone wanted to see the earrings on my ears I wouldn’t take them out to hand them to them. I don’t want some skanky hands on my belly button bar. Would you?
Besides my belly is awesome right now due to body boarding.
Mo Jo: You wouldn’t have modeled them? You’re no fun.
Jake: You are an artist right? A lax artist?
Yeah sometimes life sucks but if you have to marry a �banker� it sucks more.
That song is “My Back Pages, It was written by Bob Dylan but its most noted arrangement and performance was by the Byrds, great song by the way you ought to download it.
Coyote: Well she obviously had a preconceived notion of what a �banker was; let’s hope for her daughters sake she is wrong.
Sage: A lot of potential but I don’t write fiction. I am assuming, as a lot of people around here would, that the daughter and mother are both very satisfied with the girl marrying into a banking family. I�m not talking bank management here. I think certain things are expected. There is a way of life and standards to maintain at least outwardly. Most of these people are the same type I have met at country clubs and social events throughout my life and I have always taken a perverse joy making fun of them, much to my parents dismay.
Weirdso: I’m sure there are a lot of perverts but not with their spouses bankers or not. If I were ever to marry, and it is not on my list of priorities to be honest, I would hope all the perversion would stay at home.
Rex: Not so strange even in this day and age for a person to prefer one kind of person and end up marrying another; sad but not uncommon.
Women, in general, are very chatty. More chatty then men know.
I honestly got the feeling, as this woman left and looked wistfully at me and said �you�d never marry a banker I can tell”, that she was sad about the whole thing. Maybe that is why she wanted that particular piece of artwork for her daughter as she felt it would have meant something to her as now she was going to be living a life with someone devoid of passion for things such as that; that was only of course what passed through my mind and a pretty large assumption on my part.
Besides it was two in the morning, I had just gotten home and it had been a very long day and I just felt like posting something.
Bankers are passionate
about money
My guess: She has no daughter. Just wanted to love an artist and marry a banker and see your undergarments.
Can I see it too?
Argh, that’s so depressing.
There’s that excellent Bad Religion song:
“automatons in business suits, clinging black boxes…
contented, free of care, they rejoice in morning ritual;
as they fly like drone ant colonies to their office in the sky”
I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve lost sympathy for those deluded folk who choose that kind of life. (Sweeping generalizations aside, I’ll grant exception to any of those who genuinely pick such a career on the basis of a passion–not for money–but for the field itself.)
dave
from Maximum Awesome
I haven’t modeled boxer briefs, Miss Cooper, since my stint living in Toulouse when I was a fashion model.
But we don’t like to talk about that part of my life. There was brainwashing involved.
You should have handed her the panties and told her that a banker bought them for you.
If it happens again, excuse yourself for a moment, go to the back, remove your panties, then come back out and show her your belly button, plus