“You see that?”

You’re chaining up your bike when you overhear a man whose excitement almost deflates you, and watch him grab his date’s hand and sprint down the sidewalk, eyes locked on a window.

All you see is a dirty storefront, cluttered with shit that won’t sell. But to him, it’s a revelation—the second coming of the Mona Lisa, the greatest piece of art alive.

The culprit: A red square painted on a ceramic circle.

You frown instantly.

His face has that mix of genuine urgency and glee you only see once or twice in your life—when someone is truly, wildly excited. And her face has that blank stare of confusion, unsure of what she should be looking at, but all of this is lost on a city that’s come alive around them.

Nearby, couples dine outside on the sidewalk, giving this Midwestern street a uniquely European feel—right up until a lady leans on her horn and tells a bus driver to go fuck himself, giving it back its Midwestern feel.

But all of that is lost on the man, nose pressed up against the window, seeing only what he wants to see.

He drops her hand.

“You see this?” His voice fizzes with excitement.

He runs a hand through his hair, waiting for her to understand, and you get the unmistakable vibe: this art lover is on a first date.

“What… that square?” she asks skeptically.

The man is crushed if only for a second, then smiles and shakes his head, like he finds her comment adorable.

“Nah… that’s what they all say. But this… this is an ’78 Ritchie. He’s a genius.”

He says it like she should immediately know exactly what that means—and in doing so, kills any chance at a second date.

Her cheeks flush, and you can’t tell if it’s from endearment or embarrassment.

You drop your keys deliberately, wanting to see how this plays out.

The man dismisses his date and focuses on the window.

“That’s a Ritchie, all right.” He says to himself and only himself.

She nods politely. “Okay.”

He keeps going, voice soft like he’s revealing a sacred truth.

“I love art. The expression. The explosion. Creating something that didn’t exist before.”

He says it like he forged the square with his own hands, not like he just stumbled across it in a window.

She’s now acutely aware she’s looking at something so ordinary she could’ve seen it at a daycare, and struggles to show her acceptance as you watch her eyes drift toward the tables outside, where you presume they’re headed.

“Don’t you get it?” he says, leaning in.

She doesn’t know what to say.

And neither do you.

“It’s… well… it’s one of those things that…” He trails off, then waves it away. “Never mind, it’s something I’ll share with you later.”

He smiles, grabs her hand, and they start walking.

“Let’s get dinner, alright? Our reservation should be up here soon.”

You catch the brief eye-roll and a subtle head shake as she turns the corner and checks her watch.

They get maybe five steps from the storefront when the door bursts open.

“See, Mommy, I put the square right there.”

The mother has bags under her eyes and looks utterly tired of this shit.

“You can’t put my coaster on the window—I need it for my drink.”

She pulls open the door, sticks her hand behind the glass, and retrieves it.

“Now go inside and put it back in my office.”

The kid is hysterical, crying like his contribution isn’t appreciated.

Which it wasn’t.

“Go on, Jimmy. Mommy needs it for her coffee.”

The lady grabs her date’s hand and slows down.

“Hey, I think that Ritchie was a coaster.”

The man scoffs.

“Please, really… I know art when I see it.”

She drops his hand.

“Listen, Davis. That isn’t even art. That’s a coffee coaster.”

“A stupid one, too.”

The man looks like he just found out he ate a spider, mouth ajar.

“You’re going to tell me you know what art is? You didn’t even know what a Ritchie was.”

The lady bends one knee and folds her arms, as the kid starts screaming.

“No… no… no…”

The mother pulls out a cigarette and taps it into her palm.

“Listen, Jimmy, go inside and put this in my office NOW!”

Jimmy wipes his nose on his sleeve, grabs the coaster, and slams it into the ground, shattering it into a million pieces.

“NO!”

And takes off, running away from his mother.

The lady smirks. The man screams. And you forget you’re supposed to be chaining your bike.

The man decides to intervene by not stopping the child and focusing on the mother.

“Excuse me, did your son just destroy a Ritchie?”

“The fuck are you on about? That was a coaster my son made in 3rd-grade art…. COME HERE JIMMY!”

His date is so embarrassed that she walks off, as the mother bolts out in chase of her son.

Meanwhile, the guy looks at you and says, “That kid’s got talent.”

Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think! I love art but I can’t stand modern art.

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