Quilting-ish

02/03/2023

A woman from one of the tours came up to me today and asked about the basic quilt I was sewing together.

“What are you making?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “just a sort of fabric thing.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. I think it’s fun.”

“Shouldn’t you be in a class?”

“I am in a class.”

“What kind of class would let you do this?”

“An art class?” I said.

“Pfft, this isn’t art.”

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t art at all,” she said, “this is terrible. I could do this.”

“Do you know how to sew?”

“No, but I could learn.”

“By that logic, I should be indifferent towards a Van Gogh because, while I do not have photorealistic watercolor abilities, I could change the direction of my entire life and gain them.”

“Why do you talk like that?”

“What?”

“You heard me, why do you talk like you’re better than me?”

I though about this for a moment. “Because you have one thumb in your mouth and one in your butt, and are playing ‘switch’.”

“You can’t talk to an adult that way.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Given the thumb situation, I thought I was talking to a toddler.”

“How dare y—“

“Your group is leaving,” I said.

She walked off in a huff and rejoined the tour, now wondering past the door to the chemistry class. 

I wonder what impression I give people about this place.