Museum Musings

“You really don’t mind that our first date is at your workplace?” I ask hesitantly as my date unlocks and opens the doors. His name is Henry. Average in height, he looks presentable in a well-worn suit and is the curator of the local museum, which I suggested be our first date before I knew of his job here. He responds as he indicates that I walk in before him.

“Not at all! It’s been a long time since I last walked through and looked at the exhibits just to enjoy them. These days, I’m usually busy studying how to fix or rearrange things.” We both walk inside the building and he closes and locks the doors behind us. Typically, the staff turn the lights off by now, but knowing Henry would be coming in tonight, the lights at the entryway have been left on. The main room is so large, the lights leave much beyond their reach mysteriously shrouded.

“I’m glad. I was worried you might be disappointed once you told me you worked here.”

“Actually,” he says thoughtfully, “I was pleasantly surprised at your suggestion to come here! I am glad you agreed to an after-hours viewing, though. I love seeing people enjoying the museum, but for a date… I’d rather have a one-on-one without the crowds.”

I nod in agreement, adding slyly, “Plus, we wouldn’t have been able to bring the wine!” Henry chuckles, nodding.

“That too. If you want to leave any belongings here, there’s some cubbies just behind the ticket desk and these hooks back along the wall for coats. And if you’ll hand me that wine, I’ll open it now. It’s a merlot, correct? It needs to breathe before we can drink it properly.”

As he begins handling the wine bottle, I take his suggestion and begin shedding my coat and placing my purse in one of the cubbies behind and under the desk. Once I have rid myself of everything I don’t want to be carrying around the entire museum, I turn my attention back to Henry.

He has successfully removed the cork from the bottle and now looks me over with regret. For a brief moment, I fear I am not what he expected and that he is already having second thoughts about me. I look at my newly revealed outfit for the evening, wondering if it is the cause of his sudden regret; I have chosen a simple skirt and blouse that is nice, but a bit plain. Perhaps too plain?

“I’m sorry we didn’t get dinner together earlier. By the time I close this place up and fight traffic, I’m lucky to have what many consider a late dinner most nights.”

“It’s all right,” I reply, relieved. His regret is not me, but rather that he wanted the evening to start more favorably.

I had met with a close friend, Jenna, who helped style my hair since it has been so long since I’ve gone on a date, so I was quite glad for the extra few hours to ready myself. We’d also had a nice dinner together at one of her favorite restaurants just before Henry picked me up, but I won’t disclose this to him right now; his dinner had been a rushed affair between getting home through the traffic and getting himself ready for the date tonight, and I don’t feel like flaunting that my meal had been much more enjoyable and superior to his. I’m also supposed to call Jenna after the date, to let her know I’ve returned home safely, I’m reminded.

We each decide to use the nearby restrooms before we set out, giving the wine a chance to breathe before we begin our private excursion through the building. I return first, and as I wait, a security guard suddenly appears in the main entryway on his rounds. At first he regards me with confusion. I expect any moment he will ask me what I’m doing here, until Henry reappears.

“Good evening, Thomas!” greets Henry heartily. The guard instantly relaxes upon seeing the curator. Recognition dawns on his face; he must have forgotten Henry and I were coming tonight.

“Evening!” he replies casually, “You two about to set out?”

“Yes, I think so,” Henry says slowly, glancing at me for my input, “I was thinking we might start in the Modern Wildlife section?”

“That sounds lovely!” I exclaim with a soft smile.

“Very well. Thomas, we’ll be starting in that wing, then probably moving along to the gemstones and the Prehistoric Life section after that.”

“Got it. Would you like me to continue my rounds as usual, or should I alter the route tonight?”

“Uh,” Henry contemplates, “patrol all the other sections first as you would for an hour, then you should be able to patrol the route in its entirety,” Thomas nods that he understands, then takes his leave to begin his next round of patrols in the Human Anatomy section. Henry then turns to me, grinning sheepishly, “Sorry about that. Shall we?”

“Yes, please!” I respond eagerly.

We each take a glass of wine with us as we begin our trek to the Modern Wildlife section. Henry had taken longer to return from the restroom because he had decided to turn the lights on first, so the halls would be adequately lit by the time we made our way to the exhibits. We walk into the stunning display area, and the exhibit branches out into several subsections featuring different wildlife from each continent.

“Which way would you like to go?” Henry asks. I glance either way, spotting a few of the dioramas on each side.

“Let’s start to the left,” I respond, nodding to the sign over the entryway into the subsection titled Wildlife of North America. We walk together to the first display; the bighorn sheep. We stand in front of each diorama as we go along, admiring the skill of the taxidermies and painted backgrounds and sipping at our wine.

“I’ve always loved the taxidermies here - except one,” I admit. Henry gives me a knowing smile.

“Let me guess - one particular wolf. The one with the… slightly off muzzle?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, frustrated, “Why is it tilted up like that? That single specimen drives me crazy! I’ve been in here dozens of times throughout my life, and it’s bothered me since I was a kid.”

“I know! That one has bothered me too since before I began working here. It’s the only thing really wrong with the specimen. But yes, it is annoying how crooked it looks. I get so many complaints about it, but taxidermy work is not cheap, and we much prefer more living wolves than a new stuffed one anyway.”

We survey the rest of the Modern Wildlife section with interest over the next hour, each exchanging our likes and dislikes of particular displays. Henry also tells me of “secrets” in some exhibits; mostly things about the upkeep of the decades-old dioramas, or of small imperfections regular guests are unaware of. I find it endearing how much he cares for the museum, and revel in the little-known tidbits.

Henry then leads me towards the gemstone section. As we walk by the front desk again on the way, we refill our wine glasses. We make our way over to the exhibit entrance, which is designed to look like the opening to a mine.

He takes a moment to caution me, “It will be a bit dark in here - only the insides of the cases are illuminated. In the daylight it isn’t bad, but at night, we need to watch our footing.” I nod in understanding before we walk inside.

Steps in, I slow to an uncertain shuffle, only aware of Henry’s location by his silhouette moving in front of me. As we turn with the winding layout, however, the light from the first display illuminates the majority of the next stretch of hallway. In it is a dazzling array of large, pale crystals and stalactites.

“I enjoy coming through here after a particularly long day. It’s dark, quiet, and calm after hours, and I just admire the formations. The way the lights refract on each piece. The forces and geological circumstances that had to occur to form each different stone…”

“They’re glorious,” I agree, equally fascinated. I sit on a bench in the central chamber of the mock mine to take in a full wall of exhibits. Henry joins me, and for a while we simply admire the colorful, glittering view. We only leave after we’ve finished our second glass of wine, and we detour to the front desk to pour ourselves another. Given how long exploring each section takes, most of the previous glass has worn off by the time we get our next. Glasses replenished, we now turn to the Prehistoric Life section, one of my absolute favorite sections.

“Do you have a favorite?” I inquire. Henry lets out a strained, uncertain sigh.

“I enjoy so many, I couldn’t pick,” he states, contemplating, “Do you?”

“Same issue,” I laugh.

We begin our journey into the ancient past, sharing our favorite exhibits. Early on, we stop to admire a replica of a dunkleosteus, a large, armored fish with jagged, exposed jaw bones rather than teeth and a model of a dimetrodon, a sailed, quadrupedal creature that walked the earth before the dinosaurs. And then we come to the dinosaurs themselves.

A titanic sauropod looms overhead on limbs thicker than some tree trunks. It is joined in its overhead vigil by soaring pterosaurs, flying reptiles that existed alongside the more famous beasts. An allosaurus is posed for combat with the odd, “roofed lizard” stegosaurus and its formidable tail spikes. Giant turtles share the wall with ancient marine reptiles in familiar sea-bound shapes, and at every turn there is awe at the size and array of life.

We finish up in the Prehistoric Life section by visiting the reconstructed habitats of the intimidating entelodonts and the ever-popular mammoths and mastodons. Henry excitedly tells me about various mishaps that occurred to the original fossils throughout the tour, from multi-tons of rock-encrusted fossils being broken in the removal process, to the sad facts of the destruction of the famous spinosaurus skeleton in Germany, to the misidentified species that turned out to have been previously named, such as the brontosaurus actually being the same creature as the formerly named apatosaurus.

As we exit our final exhibit, Henry becomes a bit nervous and fidgets with his watch. I look at him with concern, but before I can ask if he is okay, he instead blurts out, “Would you like to see one more exhibit? I’ve been having a great time and I’m not ready to call it a night. It’s not quite finished, so we’ll have to wear hard hats, but it is complete enough we could tour the majority of it.”

“Do you mean the Cetaceans exhibit?” I ask incredulously. I had seen signs for the upcoming attraction featuring whales; every museum wants its turn with the cycle of traveling exhibits, and they only stay in one museum a short time generally. Henry smiles and nods excitedly.

“It is! Would you like to?”

I glance at the time on my phone: it is nearly midnight. But, I reason I also don’t get the chance to take a private tour of an unopened exhibit every night.

“I would love to,” I reply. We empty the bottle with our final glasses, and I am led to an area that is covered by tarps to keep the displays from the public eye until the reveal. Just as Henry pulls the curtain aside, my phone rings in a familiar ringtone; Jenna.

“Hey, I’m still on my date,” I tell her. I am met with disbelief. Still? I look at Henry as I hang up, “Absolutely no appreciation for museums!”

“Shall we?” He grins.

“Let’s go!” I cheer.