Yeah, Dom, you are roughly write in your word-picture, except that it wasn't
a matter of 'Dave and his cohorts' - it was just dave innocently talking to
a mate, a mate who, like the barman, is too scared to say what actually
happened, because if the barman says he'll get the sack and if my mate says
they'll bar him too.
All it comes down is that management rules: the bloke who threatened me
(that's the drug peddler) was the duty manager. He made a complaint at the
next morning Team Meeting which consisted of I am barred. No explanations
why, I have asked them and I get no answer, what it devolves into is that
the pseudo-bourgeoisie all stick together.
It wasn't in a corner of the bar: there was nobody but me and my mate,
sitting at the bar, and the barman, in the place.
And then a drughead loony who happened to be the duty manager's girlfriend
descended on me. The reasons for her antagonisms are well known: I write
good poems, it's been aired before, in other words they have BIG WORDS in
them that she can't understand and they don't usually rhyme.
That is my crime.
(Geddit?)
Best
Dave
----- Original Message -----
From: "Dominic Fox" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, January 31, 2006 10:59 PM
Subject: Re: SNAPS snap
I can both picture the scene and infer the antagonisms. Quite possibly
wrongly, in both cases. But it's quite imaginable that certain sorts
might take exception to Dave and his cohorts minding - let alone
conducting - their own business in a corner of the bar at the Phoenix
Arts. (For one thing, it's too small a bar to really have all that
much in the way of corners).
There are some people in the arts world whom one might reasonably
suspect of lacking, essentially, any sort of a clue about where art
*comes* from - to them it's a commodity to be curated, accumulated,
dollied up and touted for approval. They talk a good deal about
"creativity", the mystical origin of the cultural riches that pass
through their hands; but heaven forbid that anyone might have temerity
to actually *do* it who isn't - or doesn't habitually disguise
themselves as - a curator, speculator, cosmetician, tout or other
species of...*ahem*...facilitator.
Dominic
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