I’m like…
When she’s the one who fled my place, I’m like…
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When I discretly leave a girl’s place early in the morning without saying good-bye, and she’s part of the group who visits the gallery on the afternoon
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When asked if I want to go to a performance with plenty of booze, loud electronic music, barbecue and weird stuff in a wharehouse
I’m like…
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“Would you be kind enough to type me these compatibility reports for next week, dear?”
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When my new intern persuades a client to buy an expensive artwork by sharing passionately her taste for post-minimalist sculpture
I’m like…
Then eventually, they get married and I’m like…
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One day, I’ll get “Your application to dOCUMENTA (13) has been accepted”
And then, I’ll be like…
