Danny and I like art and antiques, so, with some rare time on our hands, a few weekends ago we went to some local antique shops: Red Rooster Cafe, Downtown Antique Mall, Gruene Antique Co., La Belle Vie, and the Gruene Flea Antique Mall. Our main goal had been to find a particular piece of furniture, which we didn’t. But we did find two paintings that we liked very much, one was of beautiful horses by Zoltan Benyey. The other one was a small 1952 acrylic of a Paris market by an artist we cannot make out. We purchased neither, but wrote down as much information as we could glean.
After a little research online, I didn’t think much more about them. However, Danny mentioned the Paris painting often and, last Saturday, on the way home from one of his jobsites, he went back to the Gruene Flea Antique Mall to buy it. He called me all distraught/fuming/chagrined in one, telling me his tale of woe. That this had been his third attempt to get back to that store to buy the painting as a reward for all his hard work in the heat over the past couple months. That he went to point it out to the store’s owner and its spot was empty. That he was told “some lady” had purchased it just an hour earlier. That he wanted her name and number, but they wouldn’t give it to him. He was laughing and frustrated alternately, and I laughed and empathized with him. Frankly, I was guffawing. And so, he sighed as said he was heading to the Downtown Antique Mall where the Benyey painting was. He was determined to buy something.
Fortunately, the Benyey was pricey, for us, and the owner would not come down enough. Danny called me again to say he told the woman he would not even put it in layaway until he had researched the artist some more. Then he hung up and came home with slumped shoulders and a jutting bottom lip. I patted his back, saying I would help him discover the woman who had snatched his painting. We walked into his office and I pointed to his chair.
There was the Paris painting! He was soooo elated, but said, “You stinker!” While out running errands, I had bought it for him as a surprise birthday present. When he called me the first time, it was hidden in my closet. That is why I laughed so hard when he was practically cursing that woman. With him feeling so dejected, I could not wait until October to give it to him. Making his day made mine!
…And what a chuckly anecdote to tell our family and friends! 🙂