Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Unmitigated disasters

Tonight was the first (and possibly last) life drawing class organised by me at the Verdon Recreation Centre.

To say it was a total disaster is to play down how dreadful the whole experience was.

Only 4 people turned up. My heartfelt thanks and gratitude to those who did.

The heating wasn't on.

The woman who opened the centre didn't turn up until about 5 mins before the class was due to start.

There was a large group of unexpected, unsupervised pubescent boys who had never and I mean NEVER seen a naked woman.

The kitchen was locked, the adjoining doors were open.

So the evening went something like this:

I arrived, early, had to wait for ages to be let into the building, which was warm but not toasty.

A whole bunch of teenagers arrived and started running around the place.

I roped them into helping me set up.

The woman with the keys allowed these teenagers to stay in the building even though there were no supervised activities for them to do.

One person turned up.

Another person turned up.

Two more people turned up.

It was now 6.35, and I was starting 5 minutes late.

I got naked and stood in the first of 4 five minute poses.

1 minute into the pose a small teenager put his head round the door, his eyes popped out of his head and he closed the door.

Immediately he open the door again and stood staring at my naked.

I turned into a fish wife and shouted at them to go away, put my dressing gown on and chased them out of the room. They were allowed to stay in the building by the woman who opened up.

I resumed my pose, they broke into the kitchen and opened the serving hatch to the room we were in and half a dozen pubescent males faces leered through the hatch. I shouted again, like a fish wife, and the hatch was closed, the kitchen locked and the teenagers removed from the building.

2nd pose, the teenagers got back into the building and proceeded to come through the main door and the adjoining door to the gym, which was supposed to be locked. All were laughing and staring, pointing and generally reacting as all teenage boys who have never seen naked people will behave. I shouted again, and the members of the life class shooed them away.

Finally they were ushered out of the building and the doors locked. The kitchen was also locked and the heating seemed to go off.

The first half of the session finished without further incident. Break for a cup of tea.

The kitchen was locked, no cup of tea. The room is starting to feel cooler.

I apologise profusely for the interruptions and the disturbances, as well as the lack of tea.

We start the 2nd half of the session, 30 minute pose. Goes without a hitch but by now I am feeling the cold.

5 minutes into the 2nd 30 minute pose I am shivering, my feet are like blocks of ice and I'm feeling very uncomfortable.

I am forced to give up, apologising again for the inconvenience, and, much to my surprise and shame, everybody pays their £5.

After cleaning up and putting the chairs away I have a word with the woman who has opened the centre and explain that the occurrences are unacceptable, that I won't be paying the rent tonight, but will be seeing the centre manager the next day to discuss what happened as I am very unhappy.

So what do you think? Disaster or total calamity, and should I bother trying to run the class at the Verdon Rec Centre again?

4 comments:

Ekaterina said...

well, when you read it, it sounds more like a totally hilarious experience. I couldn't stop laughing...but can understand that for you it wasn't funny at all;) good luck for the next time!

The fearless threader said...

With a bit of time to look back on it I think it will be funny, especially the boy's face who was the ring leader. Every time he burst into the room heis eyes were huge and his mouth was a huge surprised O. He was just a silly little boy intent on doing something naughty and it totally ruined my evening. I now think that Verdon street is the wrong place to do it but I need to find another venue.

Jan Hopkins said...

Oh no. That's dreadful. I'm glad you're able to be philosophical about it. It's blogging gold though, I have to say.

The fearless threader said...

I read it back last night, cos Josh hadn't read the blog - he thinks blogging is sad - and we were both institches. I suppose I ought to be grateful I didn't end up out of pocket. Come to the next one on monday 14th. You never know we may just end up with a different pantomime!