Super Secret Makeout Spot
What I am about to relay is not for those who lack timing. To take advantage of my not yet given advice, you need to have some facility with creating a mood and bringing it to fruition on your clock. OR, more precisely, on DAM’s clock (you’ll see what I mean).
So, last Saturday I met a date at a classic dating venue, the Denver Art Museum. Having gone to art school and logged endless museum hours, this was a choice destination for me because I was in my element. Now, those more generous human beings among us might try to find a destination that will put their date at ease. They don’t want to risk making their date feel inadequate. But, in my case, I was totally happy knowing that I was the expert (and he suggested it anyway).
During our meanderings (we stuck to the Hamilton building), we produced the typical art chatter. We stood by Kiki Smith’s standing woman sculpture and both felt the painful chest collapse evinced by her heavily muscled bronze. And were we breaking the rules when we caressed Louise Bourgeois’s hanging quarter with its chunky handles? Its large and dark cavity offers up a surprising roughness to those who dare to stick their hands where they don’t belong. And then there are the beautiful shifting trapezoids of light laying in the distant and acute corners of the building itself. I know that some people find the building ridiculous, a nausea -inducing nuisance. I love it. Anyway…
The reason I’m even writing this for you all here is because of the super secret make out spot that my date and I discovered purely by chance. We had been nearing the end of our wanderings, or, we soon found out that we were nearing the end of our wanderings. As we were happily ripping apart a different standing sculpture (your eyes fall off of it as soon as they land), several guards approached us to let us know that the museum was closed. We were, in fact, the last visitors in the museum. (Had there been an announcement?) So, we dutifully made our way to the third floor elevator and stepped inside. Distracted by my company, I pressed the doors closed button and took no further action. We took advantage of the seemingly private setting (maybe they have cameras…we didn’t particularly care), and joked about our misfortune: stuck inside an elevator. Together. Our little fiction made for a pretty entertaining setting until everything went black and the elevator hum went silent.
I know that this next part is not particularly flattering but, well..I jumped into this guy’s arms. Feet off the floor, yelp and fly kind of thing. If you ever need an adrenaline rush to bring two bodies together, this is a great scenario to bring it on. So after an unexpectedly vigorous embrace, I decided to attend to the matter at hand which was to get out of the DAM elevator. And wouldn’t you know, I pressed floor one, the elevator roused, and we descended.
Now, I don’t want the good people working at DAM to have to deal with a whole bunch of folks trying to make out in the elevator after hours. But, if you and your date just happened to get stuck once or twice, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?