I have this mundane routine, where I go out once a month to the same place, sit at the same table order for my coffee and then tell the waiter to get me something that he thinks I may like. I happened to go out the other night, my regular table was taken by a young couple. The manager offered to seat them at another table so that I could sit there. After being tempted into taking his offer, I decided to not be the stubborn prick that I usually am and sat at the next table.
My piping hot cup of black delicious sin was on my table by the time I had settled down.
“Would you like to order now or should I come back a little later.” The waiter asked.
“What was it that you got me the last time I was here?”
“The Pepper Beef Curry?”
“Yes, I believe so. Also, get me a pot of coffee, I will be here a while.”
The couple on the next table was on what looked like their first date. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but they were pretty loud and I could overhear most of the conversation. I opened up my laptop, started browsing through my email.
The waiter was back “The Chef would like to know if you would like to sample the Sauvignon Rosé tonight instead of the coffee?”
“Did he just open the bottle?”
“He has had it breathing for about half an hour now.”
The wine was brilliant, the conversation at the next table had not moved much beyond the staple first date subjects family, siblings, movies. I saw the bored look on the girl’s face and I almost felt a little sorry for her. He was losing her and he didn’t even know it.
I shifted my focus away from the doomed date and went back to browsing through my emails and then I saw it. It was for sale again “The Red Dog”. It was one of those things that you joke about buying because never in your wildest dreams would you ever be able to afford it. “The Red Dog” was one such painting, it was as ugly as they come but it had a little something to it, you could never quite just give it a glance and look away. You always came back and stood in front of it for a few minutes and try to fathom what could have possibly come over the artist to ever paint such an abomination or as she used to say “…maybe they just couldn’t paint well enough.”, which seemed feasible at first but then you notice the determined strokes and the vividness of the colour and then you are back to gawking confused at the painting, thinking “Drugs, it has to be drugs.”
I looked at the listing, it was still ludicrously expensive but I decided to give them a call anyway.
“Hi, I’m calling about The Red Dog…”
“Yes, the painting will be on the auction with the rest of them later this week.”
“I know but I would just like to see the painting, if it isn’t too much of trouble.”
“Are you familiar with the artist’s work?”
“No but I am familiar with this one is particular.”
After a little more persuasion the lady at the other end of the line agreed to stay open for another hour so that I could visit the gallery. I closed my laptop and packed up my things. I glanced over and saw the guy leave alone. ”He had it coming…” I thought to myself. I gobbled up what remained of the beef and called for the bill. I dialed her number. I heard her voice for the first time in 5 months.
“Hey”
“Hey, guess what?”
“It’s a Thursday night, so you most probably are sitting at your table, sipping on your coffee and acting all broody, hoping that some young thing will find it sexy…”
“Well, you are right about most of it, I switched to wine this time though.”
“Look at you being all adventurous…” she said sarcastically.
“Listen, The Red Dog is in town.”
“What???” there was a hint of excitement in her voice.
“The Red Dog is in town and I have convinced the lady to keep it open for another hour, I’m heading there right now.” I paused for a minute, I wasn’t sure how she was going to react to the next part “So… uh… do you want to come along?”
“I am leaving work right now, should take me about 15 minutes to get there”
I heard the phone click. I checked the bill and found that they hadn’t charged me for the wine. I thanked the Chef on the way out and headed for the gallery.
I saw her car parked outside, she was always punctual. The army upbringing had its perks. She was standing in front of it. She was beautiful, she had lost some weight, and she seemed in better shape than ever. Her high cheekbones looked even more pronounced now that she wasn’t wearing her large geeky glasses. I walked up and stood next to her.
“Still beautiful” I said
“The painting?” she snorted
“I still like it quite a bit…”
“If you had the money, would you actually pick it up?”
“I would have, it reminds me of us.”
“It reminds me of us too”
We stood there in stillness, I don’t know for how long. Till the lady’s voice broke the silence “Are you guys done?” she asked.
I nodded “Almost… just a few more minutes.” The lady gave us a disapproving look and went back to front desk.
She looked at me “Thank you for calling me.”
I walked her out to her car, she gave me a hug. I was still holding her, “So, what about you?” I asked “Would you buy it?”
“I would” she smiled “I still think he can’t paint to save his life though.”
One Knee Down 