A certain famous club has two hummingbirds on the wall — delicate, decorative, sipping nectar behind a gate. We answered with two robins. Nearly identical. Side by side. Elegant as a member's tie.
But look closer. One of them has its head turned the other way.
The wandering eye
That's the whole brand in a single glance. The side action. The open secret of the grill room. From twelve feet it's a tasteful crest. Up close, one bird is cheating — and everyone at the table already knew.
Robins steal worms and each other's attention. Hummingbirds sip and hover and guard. We know which one we are. Never fix the asymmetry; the deviation is the joke, and the joke is the point.