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Gabbi WernerGirl Friday – the Book of Bad 17. Indecent Proposal

Von | 29.11.2013, 9:00 | Kein Kommentar

He had a wife. What on earth was I doing there?

Welcome. To the stories I told in many hotelrooms. To a man who had trouble falling asleep. A business deal. He paid for my words. Here they are.


R. looked at me. „Did you do a drawing in this hotel as well?“

I told him I hadn´t had the time yet.

„You want to make one here, for me? And that I watch you whilst you are doing it?“

I said that this would be too personal for me. The thought of him watching me doing anything made me feel ill at ease. Telling him stories was one thing. R. would sometimes look at me when I told him stories. But most of the time he would just be on the bed, his head high up in the pillows. In a way it was like a therapy session turned backwards. The patient, me, talking on a chair, and the Herr Doktor on the sofa, in this case the hotel bed. To do a painting, to be active, and have him watch, it was an intrusion of my personal sphere.

On the other hand, he had looked enthusiastic when he made the proposal. I was silent for a bit. I looked at the painting in his room. It was horrid indeed. Category nondescript modern, suitable for businessmen, colours red, black, grey and a dash of the ever necessary gold.

Then I said it would be nice if we would do one together. R. jumped up and walked to the painting. He tried to take it off, but it was screwed on to the wall.

R. was tearing and pulling the painting. His face turned red. „I have to get a drill tomorrow. I want that painting off! I want our masterwork here.“

I asked him if it wouldn’t be noisy if he started screwing that painting off. „You´re right, I will do it by hand. We have to do one! It will be fun! You buy pencils and paint tomorrow. I will organise the screw driver, and some drinks. I need to be drunk to do this. And go all Dennis Hopper, did he paint? Or whatshisname who did all the splashy paintings?“

I asked him if he meant Jackson Pollock.

„That´s the one, the action painter. I want to go wild. You want to do that with me? Ah. This will be the best night ever. How am I ever going to sleep now? I will go crazy thinking about tomorrow. I have to call my wife. Sorry.“


I left. Dumbfounded. He had a wife. What on earth was I doing here? He was married. Why didn’t he take her along? And what would she say if she knew I was there? Most of my friends didn’t know exactly what I was doing abroad all the time. I had told them I had to help with research and translation for some guy, all very vague. I was away a lot of  time for my filmmaking, so they never asked how or what exactly. But a wife. Why hadn´t I noticed his wedding ring before? Did he actually wear one? I sat in my room. My painting was also screwed to the wall. This happened more and more often lately. Maybe there actually had been more people with the same idea, and the hotels didn’t like it. I could not imagine that anyone in their right mind would actually try and steal the paintings, like they seem to do with blow dryers. The man was married. This was something my morals had severe difficulties dealing with.

To be Continued. Next Friday. At 9.00h.

Link to German Translation: click  Girl Friday – Buch des Bösen 17. Ein unsittlicher Antrag.

Artwork: Gabbi Werner

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