Welcome back Sandhurst! Could it be possibly be that your arsing around may have exposed your rear end to the extreme elements rendering your shots and your focus haywire? Or could the tailwind have been too much to bear for the clubholder? But what would I know, just offering you an analysis on a subject I know nothing of. O Bligh me! Whatever wind blows you here brings good tidings for us Sajhaites. "You can plan a pretty picnic but you can't predict the weather" similiarly "you can pick a pretty Prithee but you can't predict a wedding!" If you are wise, you'd either avoid or adjust to both! Wow! Can one comment on the commentator?! Did you know there is a Pulitzer Prize set aside for excellent reviewers too!? :) You don't miss much do you? If only I could bring in Dickensian language into the writing, my short stories would turn into novels with perhaps, a shot at fame! :P But I dare not scrutinize the void between a wishful fantasy and dismal reality. The clash of the classes is evident in clubby, ritzy, social areas where people mingle for different reasons. Hence, this short vignette. As for the other, now why would a charming young feller like yourself burden himself and consequently his evening with an arrogant socialite?! Baby, you want Chianti... go for it, SOLO! There's nothing like a man who holds his own on his own! :) Why thank you Hellbound. I wonder what soul could be housed in a body adorned in broken heels,broken eye, tattered coat and exploding lungs...certainly one not hellwardbound! :)