Ryan and Peter stood at the edge of densely packed crowd, all gathered around a large open pit sunk into the floor and rimmed by several rows of seats. The two delicately massaged their way toward the front, neither wanting to offend with their presence.

As Peter scanned the periphery of the room trying to judge the most logical placement of a bathroom, Ryan’s fingers dug into his arm.

“Dude!” he yelled, although effectively at a whisper given the crowd noise. “Second row of seats, yellow dress!”

Peter obliged by looking in the general direction, but didn’t see whoever Ryan was excited about. Ryan yelled something else that was unintelligible, and before Peter could parse the words, Ryan was shimmying his way into the thick of the crowd. Peter resigned himself once again to the role of unwitting accomplice in another of Ryan’s half-brained attempts to create “high adventure.” He would be asleep by now if he’d stayed home.

Peter finally spotted a door on the opposite wall, and began pushing his way to it.