Some items about walking from Richard Prince’s website, written under his pseudonym Fulton Ryder.
“A cowboy walks into a bar and says to the bartender, "Who's the asshole who owns this shit hole?"
A guy walks into an apartment and looks at the Warhol, the Basquiat, the Hirst, and the Prince... and says, "that's not interesting".
“There were several times when I would be walking back to my sublet alone, late at night, after last call, four in the morning, and I would run into Carl Andre. He was probably doing the same thing. It was always on West Broadway. No one around. It was amazingly peaceful. The first couple of run-ins I would stop and say. "Hey Carl... it's me, Richard..." He'd just stare at me in his bib-overalls and walk on by. He would look right through me... X-ray vision. The way he would stare was what bothered me the most. His eyes told me, "I'm fucking Carl Andre and I already know the time."
I walked up to Richard Prince at his gallery opening last night and said hello to him, and at that point a gorgeous young woman walked by and gave him a huge smile. And I said who’s that? And Richard Prince said, “Oh, she just gave me a handjob in the bathroom.” Maybe he thought I looked shocked, and maybe I did. Later he walked up to me and said, “You know, I wasn’t serious. That girl didn’t really give me a handjob in the bathroom. I wouldn’t want you to think that.” True story.