"Art Babcock? Are you sure?" I said quickly.

Fran nodded. "Yes, what's the big deal? Who's he?"

"Oh, just the critic who's adorned by MOCA. He's brought lots of artists up the rank just last year."

"And his name's Art? Art Babcock?"

"Perhaps he may have renamed himself..."

"Perhaps?"

"... But he still could make or break me."

"Greg, no one can break you. I thought you figured that out from Frank and besides, in order to make it, someone in the know has to see your stuff. Might as well be him. Wonder how we got him to come?"

"From your buddy and mine, Harvey."

"Penis Boy? Hey good for him."

"Jesus Christ, what are you kidding?"

"Greg what's the problem? We're actually getting people to come. Are you freaking? Don't you want anybody to see your stuff?"

"Yes, of course I do, but not with ten foot erections or giant sized balls."

"You made your bed..."

"Thanks Fran."

"I just don't think it's as big of a deal as you think it is."

"Well, we'll see."

**************

ART SHOW DAY

We had been up all night arranging the pieces. What should go where. It was especially hard because Penis Boy's (Fran's new pet name for Harvey) sculptures were huge and if put in the wrong place would hide mine and Fran's stuff entirely. But I must say Fran was quite patient and whenever Penis Boy would move a sculpture cutting off an important view, Fran would just say unemotionally, "I don't think so buddy" and then help him move it. My Fran was growing up at least in professional terms; personally is another story. Anyway, we were exhausted. We had enough time to shower, grab a cup of coffee, and be back just in time to set up the food and drink and then finally to open the doors at one o'clock.

Fran and I got there at 12:30, ran in, set up cheese and crackers, put out little plastic cups, opened the wine, and wiped off some fruit on our clothes. Harvey swaggered in at 1:15.

Fran rolled her eyes and without looking at him yelled across the cement floor, "Harvey, your cleaning up by yourself."

"Yeah right."

"Yeah right is right!" Fran was quickly losing her patience so I stuck a full glass of red Gallo in her hand.

"Thank you," she said and gulped without a breath.

1:30 and our first guest arrived and wouldn't you know it, it was Art Babcock himself. Harvey was in the bathroom or I'm sure or he would have been on him like a fly on fried chicken. Fran and I just hung back and smiled. As he passed the really huge penis he stopped and laid his hand over his mouth and started laughing a laugh that would embarrass a hyena. Then he continued on glancing at Fran's and then began passing mine slowly but refusing to reveal any indication. Then he headed straight for us. "How much is the huge erect thing over there?"

We both stared at him long enough for him to repeat himself. Finally, Harvey came back out of the bathroom and he bought it. He fucking bought the ten-foot penis for two thousand dollars! He started to leave after Harvey said he'd have it delivered tonight and Fran nudged me, "Go ask him."

"Ask him what?"

"What he thought of your work."

"Why?"

"That's why we're here remember?"

I sucked back my own full glass of wine and thought, "And this is just the first half hour. How much worse could it get?"