The Art of Stalking

So I have finally found someone who goes through art galleries at the same pace as me. After years of searching, and having to slow down or speed up or lose my buddy entirely, I have found someone who moves at my pace, skipping the same paintings, spending time on the same paintings, leaning against the wall texting at the same time. It's the perfect relationship. The only problem? This person is a stranger. So I think that I am now a stalker.

I was at the Tate Modern. (An aside- I love modern art. Even the weird kind that makes no sense and could have been done by your five year old nephew. That's not the point. The point is that it's an expression of the darkness in someone's soul. I always feel so well adjusted when I view modern art. And Salvador Dali is a god to me.) So, I'm at the Tate Modern. Wandering up to the fifth floor when I nearly slammed into a guy exiting the bathroom. I think nothing of it and keep walking. He enters the gallery. I enter immediately after him. And that was when it began. We walked around the opposite sides of the galleries and met in the middle, crossed over and finished at the same time. Even when I tried to lose him, he found me. I left the video of the naked woman pouring blood over herself and rolling in feathers early so that I could lose him and look like less of a stalker. But he caught up with me at the statue staring into the pile of second hand clothes. And I felt like a stalker. Because he usually left the galleries a step ahead of me. I wanted to stop and scream "I AM NOT FOLLOWING YOU FELLOW ART LVOER!! I AM MERELY ENJOYING ART AT THE SAME PACE AS YOU, A STEP BEHIND ME". A curse it was.

He was quite sexy though, so it wasn't too bad of a view following him around.

After that I wandered across the Millenium Bridge and up to St Paul's Cathedral then down Fleet St and the Strand before jumping on the train at Charing Cross station. A lovely day all up :)