Editorials by Forrest Fenn - Once in a while I do something right

Once in a While I Do Something Right
by Forrest Fenn

Many years ago I was working at a gallery it Taos. It was newly remodeled and we were having our gala grand opening. Now, when you have an art thing in that little town, absolutely everyone turns out. That’s the artiest place in the whole world, per capita.

The problem was that we weren’t ready to open at 5:00 when the people started pouring in. Fortunately, most of them were looking for the vino bar and a plastic cup as our star artist was finishing with the sweeping. The office clerk was still busy printing wall stickers.

Well, I was working the crowd pretty good when our cute little salesgirl came pushing her way through the swealth of human bodies with a heavy-looking customer in tow who was carrying a painting and had a smile on his face. She asked, “Boss, this gentleman is interested in our Nicolai Fechin and wants to know if you can do a little better on the price.” I don’t remember now whether I had bought that painting because I admired it or I admired it because I bought it. Anyway, I was smiling my best and feeling good when I looked at the sticker price - $6,000, it said.

Suddenly an anxious moment arrived at the same instant when I realized we had purchased that priceless painting for $40,000 and our retail was actually $60,000. The clerk had omitted a critical zero from the wall sticker.

I started to explain to the gentleman how sorry I was about the terrible mix-up that……………He quickly leaned into his words. ”Now just a minute mister, I am a lawyer and I have already purchased this painting. I’m just trying to find out if you can do a little better on the price.” How should I respond to that kind of logic? I began to feel like the Rolls Royce that pulled up to the Ritz Plaza Hotel and no body got out.

The sales girl who wasn’t cute anymore just stood there with a certain amused detachment. I think she enjoyed watching me wiggle. And if the light fingered clerk had not fainted by now she sure as hell would when I caught up with her.

I was thinking fast. “What does the law say about this?” “How tough is this guy gonna be?” “Can he catch me if I’m running with the painting?” I decided to reason again. “I’m sorry sir but our clerk has made an honest mistake and we can’t afford to sell this great painting for that kind of money.” He pushed closer and gave me a look that was really scary. I thought my champagne glass was about to break. Some things are better than money, like the survival of my person.

“OK sir, you can have the painting for $6,000. He smiled and handed me a check.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir but we can’t take a check. We don’t even know you.”

He just stood there like he was trying to figure out the secret of thought. “Then HERE’S my Visa Card.”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir but we are not set up to accept credit cards.” By now he was beginning to look a little filed down. “Well, (meekly) will you hold the painting for me until tomorrow when I can……?”

I stood on my tip toes, “Listen you pompous jerk, you came over here and told me you were a lawyer, trying to intimidate me. You could be a poster child for all of the bad lawyer jokes I see going around. Now if you have sixty pictures of Alexander Hamilton you can fork them over and feel good about stealing this painting from me. Otherwise, you’re standing in my sunshine.”

As I turned away I noticed the ugly salesgirl standing there looking as pale as a baby’s butt and I winked at the cute little light-fingered clerk.