Saturday night arrived at a friend's all-gal b-day party late as I had been scampering about covering a fashion show, some music, and an art opening. Upon starting up the front steps of the respectable home in the respectable neighborhood I thought I heard a just-fired gun and imagined that it was another friend brandishing one of her cache of inherited items. It was two summers ago when me and this same woman, at another even more respectable home, thought about firing the handgun nestled in her handbag in the backyard - but thought better of it amid the brick courtyard setting. I imagined the terror of a ricocheting bullet and having to hit the dirt so to speak in my great outfit. Upon hearing about the backyard firearm antics that hostess went really pale in the face...that was also the party when an out-of-control acquaintance crashed the party, got drunk, got violent, and was taken away in a shiny ambulance. Sometimes I go to festivities which aren't tainted with lawlessness and the like.