The mystery guest knew he would have to work fast. He was waiting for someone to mention dinner. "I could go with you," he said.

And that was when the mystery guest made his mistake. When they all got where they were going there was a line to wait, and the mystery guest really needed a cup of coffee. When he came back, they were all gone.

The mystery guest was used to that too. He went back out on the street. How far could they go? The pink pastry sat there in his hand. It was going to be back to the roller rink again tonight, he knew.

The mystery guest pulled himself together. Whatever happened, this was not going to turn out like the potluck he'd found an invitation to on the bulletin board at the laundromat. The mystery guest noticed a restaurant next door where another line was starting to form. He made a mental note to return to the neighborhood. "Excuse me, there's someone waiting for me inside," the mystery guest said hopefully. The line parted and he walked in and went unnerringly towards the stairs to the mezzanine.