Dear European Hottie at MOMA,

Can it really be considered stalking if I was overcome in the museum by the beauty of your movable art? Yes, that's what I'm referring to you as. Yes, you...the tall blonde, black t'd, washed out red jean, Converse wearing, cute tiny goatee sporting hottie that I 'bumped into' continually throughout MOMA. You were just an annoying blur in my camera when you walked in the compass in hand exhibit...



but I couldn't help but watch the intensity of your art gaze.


Or the way you pondered model like over at the cutouts of Betty Ford news articles by that obscure crap artist.
Oh, but when you bent over to take pictures of it with your cell phone ....drool. I wanted to know you, I wanted to be so familiar that I could walk over and hug you from behind and gently tug on your ear with my teeth and ask if you what you could possibly see in that piece.


You probably don't remember but we smiled at one another two floors later, I think we both recognized that we, in fact had been crossing paths the entire afternoon. I forgive you for walking past the 'Wyeth'
without so much as a second glance in support of taking pics of the ancient aircraft because the view from behind was lovely...


I hope you're a regular, if I ever see you again I'm going to jump you - or maybe something less crazy like asking you "Do you come here often?" "Who are your favorite artists?" Perhaps even ask you out for coffee - unless I see you go into the architecture wing...in that case I'll wait for you outside in some other unassuming stalker like fashion.