At the Pastry Chef on Sunday morning, the owner came over to our large group, and asked if we could all sit at different tables — his daughter was waiting tables, and the owner inferred — with a sly grin — that it would be a little hard for her to remember all the orders. Never underestimate a Virgo, she got us all served without problems. Some years ago, at an event in Dallas? Ft. Worth? Someplace like that, I saw a guy wearing a skirt [not a kilt, a skirt]. He was a vendor for some attire called a “man wrap.” I noted it, wrote about it, and subsequently got teased about it, “Thought you’d show up in a skirt, too.” Sunday morning, I took a tablecloth in a bright, floral print [Sunday’s tablecloth looked like Saturday’s shirt], wrapped it around my waist, and walked into the event. Best comic entertainment I could provide for the day — it’s a strange way to make living, but I like it.