Don't look a gift potato in the mouth.

In 1999 a vision of the Virgin Mary was reportedly seen in the window of a building in Clearwater, Florida. This wasn't the first "sign" America would see, nor the last.

Plagued by indecision, it was the only immediate solution we could come up with- going to Buffalo Wild Wings for twenty-five cent Tuesdays. L and I sat there, sipping soda and mulling over our options, none of which seemed to lift my spirit nor steer us in a clear direction.

Vandals once threw corrosive liquid over the image on the glass, but the representation returned.

Most people are indifferent towards unexplainable signs, though there are a few pertinacious individuals who cling to the belief that any sign, whether found in a mirrored window or a gum wrapper, is a divine message from God, sent to ease their suffering and provide hope. Ironically, it was not the indignation of vandals leading them to destroy it; they believed in the phenomenon the most, enough for it to scare them into attempting to get rid of it.

I had long stopped asking God to give me a sign for my issues. Either she never complied or I am too oblivious to notice. I can see the outline of a Mary-esque figure, but I'm not sure I believe it.

As the waitress dropped off twenty-four wings and an order of cheesy potato circles I could feel myself finally coming to an answer. I thought it over before saying anything, letting the hot spices, married with drippy grease, weakly attempt to make me feel better.

Just as I was starting to feel nauseous from indecision (or possibly the grease was eating away at my insides) I picked a solution from my virtual hat and laid it on the table. THIS is what we're going to, I proclaimed to L. He agreed.

With sticky fingers I reached in to grab another cheesy disc, beginning to feel a small weight release from my shoulders. The dimly lit room caused me to squint my eyes and immediately pause....my potato was smiling at me.

No, I do not usually see faces staring at me from my victuals, nor am I like Aunt Glady (Marge Simpson's aunt) who cherished her collection of potato chips that resembled famous people. My potato actually had two distinct eyes and a smile (as you can see.)

I told L it was a sign. What else could it be? At that exact moment I had just made a decision on something that had bedeviled my mind for well over six months, and there appeared before me a salty sign from above.

Skeptics claim the "Virgin of Clearwater" was "...the result of ground-water being sprayed up onto the windows from the sprinkler system, depositing a layer of metallic oxides there, and by thin-film reflection effects showing a fuzzy rainbow-like pattern on the glass." Maybe so, but it still formed that exact pattern at that exact time.

My potato friend is likely a natural cause of the intricate gourmet preparation of cheesy potato discs, but it was no less an auspicious gift, much needed at that exact moment.

I have no doubt that signs will continue to reveal themselves in unique ways until the end of time. Some of us will claim divination in an arbitrary picture; others will stare blankly with bemusement. Regardless, if my eyes do happen to be open at the time, I won't look a gift potato in the mouth.