Leialti minimalista.

quarta-feira, 13 de agosto de 2008

Art for art's sake.

"Can you take this..."
"Good night, mister" interrupted the doorman in an extremely unpleasant tone. Odds are that the habit of greeting everyone with a good morning, day or night got out of use when a man perceived he would have one of his arms much more stronger than the other, if he had to take out his hat for every single woman that passed by, unless he switched between arms. It is also a fact that the job of a doorman is ungrateful, lots of time for little money, so it's acceptable to the doorman to be upset.
"Uh, good night, I wanted to send these up to the 1922"*
"Excuse me?"
"Why do you want to send the cushions?"
"I can't understand what you mean..."
"Mister, if you want to send the cushions, you must have a purpose"
"Purpose? They are just cushions, they're going to be there..."
"No way, mister, they can't just be there. Lemme see these cushions, mister" and so the stripped cushions were handed to the doorman, black and white and black and white. The doorman looked at them carefully. "What do the stripes mean, mister?"
"Nothing, for Christ's sake, they are just cushions!"
Improvisating didn't occur to the man, it wouldn't be hard to do it. He could always say the cushions would oppose the harsness of the office desk chair, an antithesis, he could say the contrasting stripes represent the eternal duality of man, he could just say they would match the walls, after all they were black and white, and people are always saying black and white match all the other colors.
"Mister, I'm going to repeat this only once, the cushions go up only with a purpose."
"What the fuck! You must be kidding me... How do I speak with your boss?"
"These are orders from the tenant, mister, If I send them up and the tenant complain with the boss, I can even lose my job."
"From the tena... no shit, let me speak with Conrad!**"
"Can I know your reasons, mister?"
"I've already said, holy fuck, let me speak with Conrad, quick!"
And then a man appears at the entrance hall.
"Hi there, Gautier, fancy that, wait just a minute... and the cushions, did you brought them?"
"Well I brought, but this lunatic doorm..."
"Kafka, have any papers arrived?"
"No, mister Conrad, but this sir here wanted to send to your apartment some cushions, but I didn't allow it"
"It's ok, Kafka, the cushions are going to match the walls and the papers are from the Deny the Art for Art's Sake, no metric, free verses, everything in the expected."
"Alright then, mister Conrad"
"So, Gautier, do you want to go up for a cup of coffee?"
"I would certainly like that"
"Good... and what would be the purpose of this cup of coffee?"
"Excuse me?"

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