I’m standing at the alter like an idiot,
waiting for Alan to show. I stand here, limp with August all around. Thought I was clever
setting this up, telling Alan in a sexy blur to meet me in the treeless part of the forest. Past the
part where ducks quack on a waterless pond, past the part where I should know better than to
plan a surprise wedding to man who couldn’t care less, and just as I accept this, I notice Rodolfo,
the cater waiter, tray of peeled shrimp and snappy tuxedo, standing there, giving me the foxy
eye.