I spent most of the ride back home today trying not to stare at a woman's breasts. She sat down opposite me and at the precise moment she landed there, all thoughts of recently viewed art exhibitions evaporated from my head. Here they were, her dangling boobs, a mere meter in front of me - pale, not so much pretty as, well, exposed. It was all the more bizarre that the weather was horrid today. Was she not aware that the zipper of her jumper was closer to her navel than her chin? Was this her intention? Was I supposed to say something? I don't know how to handle such a situation. For my part I tried my best to keep a straight face. Considering that in the mirror of the driver's cabin I was able to see the reflection of men who were utterly transfixed by the display, it wasn't easy. Mercifully, another passenger diverted my attention. A young teenage girl sat next to my object of fascination - track suit, pony tail, roses in a bag and... a cigarette in her hand. It wasn't a pack, it was just one lonely cigarette. She just held it in her hand as you would hold a flower, periodically sniffing it. Nicotine withdrawal?
Meanwhile her neighbor either became uncomfortable under men's stares or just plain cold. She pulled the zipper up...just a little bit, just to be sure that a nipple will not make its appearance.
And to think that I would have missed this peep show if I had postponed my search for art review material. It does pay off to be a responsible one from time to time.
I did find several possibilities for my next review. I will not bore you with details but here is a little puzzle for your enjoyment. If the title of the exhibition is pleinairism, how does this receipt fit in? Any takers?
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