I would think you could come up with a better question, or at least something a little less rhetorical."We both laughed at that. "Okay, you got me. I ...guess I'm just as nervous as you are. This could potentially be a disaster of biblical proportions. I mean your folks seem like decent people, but if they wanted to they could crucify me for my involvement in this. Well, not all of it, but at least my part over the weekend."As we pulled into the driveway and got out, a woman crossed the street. I. A thick heavy denim-like material had been cut into strips and woven together to form the sleeping surface. The ends were held tight to the frame by hooks. It reminded him of one of those aluminum lawn chairs with the woven vinyl straps.Under the bed was a chamber pot. Since the inn didn’t have a privy and he didn’t feel like pissing out the back door, he decided to use the chamber pot. Finishing his business, he put the cover back on the chamber pot. Now that his bladder was empty, his stomach. Het is aan de ceremoniemeester om alles in goede banen te lijden. En dat doet hij. Met verve. Hij heeft, zoals een goede ceremoniemeester betaamt, een gastenlijst opgemaakt en een tafelverdeling voorzien. Hij weet van één ieder wat hun wensen en voorkeuren zijn. Om het schouwspel goed te laten verlopen, overloopt hij samen met ons de lijst. “Tafel 2,” zegt de ceremoniemeester ons, “we starten bij tafel 2”. Met die woorden gaat er een shock door mijn lijf. Een koude en warme shock tegelijk. Mijn. “Listen, we are running so late it’s ridiculous, but I’ll be back. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in half an hour, maybe forty minutes.” She ran around to climb in the driver’s side door.“Wait! What about dinner?” he asked.“Whatever! Leftovers? Whatever you can find in the kitchen ... listen, got to go! The kids are going away for the night.” She scrambled into the van and took off out of the driveway.Peter stared after them as they sped down the road, trying to imagine what was going on..