It wasn't till Lauren spent the week here that I realized I haven't giggled uncontrollably in well over a year. Luckily, she's the kind of person who can fix that.
Things that cause uncontrollable giggles generally don't translate well in the telling. I took pictures, in the hopes I would remember, and others might enjoy, too.
So, we had brunch at Mother's Restaurant. They've got all kinds of crazy hippie art in there, you know, and over our table was a weaving; this one:
In case you can't quite make it out, here is the description that was under it (important to the story):
During the meal, we talked a lot about the weaving, but more about the description beneath it. The first thing we thought to do was to move our drinks and then food away from the piece, as it was composed largely of trash from a river. Then I noticed that the 'E's in the description were inconsistent, as you can hopefully see. A bit later, Lauren said "I think I know when he puts a vertical line on the E. It usually happens after he's done another letter just before that has a vertical line in it." Which, as you may see, is a very good theory, though it doesn't account for every single instance, nor does a vertical line definitely mean he forgot to do the pretentious version. It was however, a better theory than my own, which was that he was having tiny strokes or aneurisms that caused his handwriting to change momentarily.
As the description invites comments (though the implication is he's open to criticism from the highly visible community of weaving purists), Lauren wrote this on the back of our meal receipt:
It was really the first part that I found the funniest. "I like how it suggests currents and eddies."
But then we decided it might be mean to really leave the note, especially if he was actually just being pretentious with the handwriting. Lauren said we should come back and put proper lines on all his Es when we had a pencil.
ADDENDUMLauren emails today:
I'm going to check out the website for the weaver, and if he has an email address, I'll anonymously review his work. If you go back to Mothers and all the E's have lines, but the paper's stained with tears, you'll know who's responsible.