I'm at the Retreat Center and most of the people around me are old acquaintances. At a meeting in the open, I sit fairly close to the speaker, but off to one side, alone, my own brown wooden table to write on. Later I'm aware of my strength and radiant good feeling and good looks. Young people, about two boys and two girls, all about 20 years old, say I look "strong and rugged"--not patronizing to old, but straight stuff. I look down and see my Golden Sweat Shirt and smile at the illusion of bulging muscles--it's a baggy monster that disguises my modest muscles. I say nothing to them. A woman is near me--tall and thin and good-looking with shoulder-length hair, a composite to two women I know. We get friendly in a hurry, and she takes off her shoe--we are on the floor on a rug by then, but people still all around us. I kiss the top of her foot, gallantly, not silly or parody. She agrees to meet me later. I sit there a long time alone. A fat child, with dark skin, like mulatto or Mexican comes up and says, "Marilyn is called away, so she can't meet you at 2 PM by the Gate." She mumbles and is shy, so I ask her to repeat it. I had heard it right the first time. I was dimly aware I may have forgot the time and place for our assignation. I think about my overtures to the woman and feel I merely want to get naked with her, even if no sex. I feel she will ask if I'm married. I'm resolved to tell her the truth, but will still feel like a cad.