The bride pokes her head around the corner, looks at me.

"Readings?" she suggests as clearly I have lost track of time and everyone but me is ready to go.

Shit. It will only take a couple of minutes to get ready and it would be awkward to try to direct things after we began. "Just a minute," I assure her and run back towards the house.

I run into the bedroom where my stuff is stashed and come across one of the young women dancers is changing. She is nude from the waist up and just entering puberty and one would think that either of these elements would make her horrifically bashful to have a man come charging in during her changing routine, but she seems not to care.

I certainly feel the awkwardness. "Excuse me," I said, keeping my eyes on the prize: garmet bag, door.

I sneak into the back bathroom which, while inconveniencing untold numbers of people in so doing, is at least the place one should expect a few moments of privacy.

Amazingly, from the bathroom window I can see across the low side fence and over the street to the cemetary. My grandparents' house, being only next door, has no such view.

I decide that maybe I'll try to buy this one instead.