Nicole J.
Yelp
Allow me to preface: I do not like to give negative reviews.
On my way home from work, I like to occasionally stop in the amazing galleries on Geary, and the people stationed at their desks are always very kind, often offering up fascinating tidbits about SF, art, what have you. I feel extremely fortunate to live in such a lovely city immersed in such beauty.
Today I stoped into Fraenkel Gallery. My presence wasn't acknowledge by the woman working there, which was fine. Approximately three minutes from the time I entered, a very distinguished, well-dressed, and quite elderly gentleman leaning on a cane approached me, pointed to one of the paintings, and said, "There's the reason I was exiled from my country." He then began telling me about how he was an artist in Moscow in the forties; he used charmingly articulate speech in a soft, quiet, Russian accent; he eyes were so kind, and his story was very interesting.
About two minutes after we began conversing, the woman who worked there emphatically cleared her throat. One minute later, she went into another room and slammed the door obnoxiously upon her return. We were standing out of the way, speaking very quietly, and no one else was in the gallery. My new acquaintance, Alex, continued his story, adding that his wife had passed away last year. I was not in the least bit bothered by Alex; it felt really good to connect with someone who really seemed to just want to talk to someone. He was in no way senile...just in need of a friend.
Five minutes into our conversation, the woman at the desk, whose demeanor I can describe as downright nasty with no exaggeration, loudly said, "This is a store; if you want to continue your lecture, do it outside." These were the only words she said to us the entire time. Alex and I went outside and spoke for another fifteen minutes or so, his eyes lighting up as he described Florence to me. He told me that it was wonderful talking with me and that I made his day and warmly shook my hand. I could tell he was sincere, and my eyes watered up as I walked away, wondering where he would go to next. I do hope I run into him again.
I sincerely hope that people will treat the woman at the gallery with more kindness when the day comes that she is old and lonely.