I'm at a little gallery or building being used for one, it used to be a house, I imagine. We're setting up an art show in the front room - there are maybe half a dozen artists or less, one of whom is MT, I'm assisting him. This is not just people with oil paintings, it's a variety of things, and what M is showing are little airplanes. They're not replicas, or toys exactly, but they're stylized and cute. The group of people have exhibited together before, and it's a cooperative effort. They've been doing this once a year - though this may only be the 2nd year, I don't know. Anyway, there are people bustling about, putting things up, looking after details. There's somebody in charge, he comes around to check how things are going every now and then, nice polite friendly guy in a suit. One of the things I'm doing is looking out for anything odd. Last year there was a disturbance, a robbery or something, and this time MT has assigned me to poke around and see if there's anything out of the ordinary to suggest something similar might happen. I haven't seen anything, but I have been around to the back of the house and gone into a couple of other rooms. We're behaving kind of like secret agents or something, but we really don't want anything to happen.MT has one of his airplanes suspended on a thread from the ceiling, and I decide it will look better near the entrance where some other things are, to give people coming in a hint of what they'll see. It comes down easily enough, but I'll need help getting it stuck back up, so I go fetch a chair. There's a bar in this room, a padded one like you see in - well, bars, with lots of glasses and it curves around. I get a chair from there. A friend offers to help and I do need it - he's not quite Don Mahon, but that's who I think of. So we tack the thread up where I want the airplane to hang.