The Top Five Kinds of Escorts at the Texas Contemporary Art Fair

Waiting in the beer line with my friends.
Waiting in the beer line with my friends.

The Texas Contemporary Art Fair happened, and it was a success, I think. I mean, I really don't know, but there were people there, and I went, and I quickly got very uncomfortable seeing all of the people I am uncomfortable seeing in one place.

But, you know what always makes things tolerable? Escorts.

5. Indentured Wives

Indentured wives were out in full force, and they were with some dumb-looking guys. The biggest myth in our country is that cool people make a lot of money, which, after seeing the kind of dudes parading around with "hot" women in cheetah print, is verifiably not true.

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All I could picture with these couples was some bad sex followed by a trip to Louis Vuitton.

Does anyone think these women are attractive? I mean, yeah, they have a bunch of fake body stuff going on, but holy shit, to hear them talk. Then again, they married some dude twice their age who looks like a walking calculator, so talking? About art? At an art fair?

4. Ford Escorts

It's technically an "Escort," and it's the car that 70 percent of the artists that visited the fair over the weekend drive. And what, you ask, is the car the other 30 percent drive? Their husband's. Zing!

Big surprise alert: Career artists are poor, y'all. And if they're not, they live in a two-income household.

Art events are great because it's the best place to see high society rub elbows with regular-ass folk. It's surreal to see a person who just got back from Italy in a discussion with someone who just barely paid for peanut butter at Kroger, and it's likely that they're just talking about art, and being polite and shit.

Also of note: There was a booth selling $5 paintings, and everyone was holding a $5 painting at the end of the night. It was great. All art has to be is cheaper than a Subway sandwich, and everyone will buy it.

3. Art Dealers

Is there a type of person grosser than the modern-day art dealer? I'm not talking about gallery owners here (although they occasionally deserve some scorn), I'm talking the type of person that runs around trying to find the next "great" thing and hold it tight, like a python with a baby goat.

They are perfectly content ignoring all artists who don't "sell," and not wasting time talking to people who cannot dump money in their pockets.

I was reminded this weekend that this kind of person actually exists. I have little or no contact with them, and am perfectly fine living my life without being reminded of their particular brand of snake oil. They make their money selling dead people to dumb people.

2. Lindsay Lohan

No, she wasn't there. I was just making an unimaginative joke about people who do drugs.

I didn't actually see any drugs, but there were some talkative-ass people on the floor. I saw a few folks sweating real hard, and even got asked where the drugs were at. I didn't know where the drugs were at.

But really, drugs were probably easier to score than a drink. I really wanted to stay and have a good time, but Christ, the fucking line to get a beer. I'm happy there were people at the thing, but I really wanted to go all "helicopter arms" and punch the 500 assholes in front of me aside.

1. The Party Pony

Glasstire had a live, painted pony at their booth.

I've got no room to talk because I rode an elephant with my children at the Renaissance Festival on Sunday, but doesn't it always make you feel sad/wrong when animals are used as party decorations?

Anyway. Party ponies! They make any occasion special.

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