So as I mentioned last week was ‘commissioned’ to do a canvas painting for my character of a neighbor;
Last Friday, before heading home I stopped by to drop of the finished canvas. He invited me in to his apartment (which for the record is in the running for most disheveled place I have ever entered- which is saying something as I have visited two of Eric Ferrara’s previous rooms). Anyway he invited me in and asks me to wait as he rummages through his cupboards. After a long and awkward pause and brief chat with his daughter he pulls his head out of the cupboard clutching a few interestingly smelling items. “You are an artist, so maybe you can paint these for me,” he asks as he holds out the first item. It’s a fridge magnet bus pass that has had the numbers scratched off. “I can’t use it without numbers on it. Can you paint my number back on?” he asks. I say that I could, though it might take a while with me leaving town for the weekend. He doesn’t mind waiting apparently.
The second item was a dilapidated plastic tumbler that looked as though it had suffered ten years of washing machine abuse longer than the manufacturer ever intended. Ion the side is a barely visible Hawaiian dancer girl, rather similar in style to Peggy Pepper. The poor girl has yellowed, chipped and flaked to the point of being barely recognizable. Whiteout crumbs over the areas where her limbs had been showed evidence of
The last item emerges. It is at this point I become extremely uncomfortable standing there with this shirtless man in his dogs-dinner of an apartment. He holds out an old McDonalds’ toy of Princess Jasmine. The Disney princess is seated with her tiger on a magic carpet/cloud base that has wheels on the bottom for pull back and zoom fun. If the man where a five year old girl that is. However this Jasmine was special. Her top had been scratched off, and I assumed he wanted me to paint her a new one. “I scratched off her top,” he boasted through a toothy grin, “Can you paint her some titties or me?” he finishes, looking at me like as though he had just told a very impressive story. I instantly responded “no” a little too quickly. He looked taken aback. I stammered a string of excuses involving paint not sticking to that type of plastic and me not having the right colors, and started to leave assuring him I would try my hand at the other two trinkets. Three times he tries to convince me to try painting the boobs on his toy. Each time I politely make up some stupid reason. I eventually got out of there and have yet to return with his cup and pass. I’ll do the pass, cus he needs that. But the cup wont happen. Sad thing is he really didn’t seem that bothered with the canvas in the end. Some people eh?