MOMA

MOMA was packed with half of Manhattan's visitors. The locals know better by now unless they're broke and Friday is the only day they're able to see the museum, like me. So, "Free Friday" at MOMA; the doors are open to the public at no cost. The staff is trying desperately to appear in good spirits. We all know the feeling, the "seriously, I wish the public knew this is my nightmare" feeling or the "I'd rather be plucking my eyes out with a spoon" feeling.
My class is walking the fifth floor gallery amongst the hundreds just on our floor, each with our prepared speech on our researched artwork. I'm juggling eight pages of scratch notes with an additional three of organized garble and ready to present. All tucked away in Duchamp's wing of the fifth floor, i am into my third page. I think my information is flowing pretty well...
"SIR!"
The security guard approaches my professor. I stop my presentation short. There is mumbling between the two of them, both tall men. My professor has a last word and the security guard approaches inches from his face.
"THIS TOUR ENDS NOW!" the security guard voices his authority.
My professor, young, ambitious, pissy and French says to us, "Come. We'll just keep moving."

So a game of cat and mouse began on the fifth floor of MOMA.

By the time the evening concluded, we were told to shut it down twice. Full security was called once and the floor was closed down ten minutes early.
I am not quite sure what we were doing that bothered security to the effect that it did. We were not loud, giving guided tours with a tip jar set aside..we were simply congregating and, more or less, discussing works of art. I can see where it could be an issue to stand directly in front of a work obstructing view of the work with hundreds of people onlooking and as we project our researched information (as a guided tour, therefore competing with what you would have to pay for at MOMA)- BUT we were not.

I guess I would like an explanation past the dollar.