Hope of America tonight at BYU. That's my boy in the yellow shirt. On the left. Sixth row down. Four over. Cute, isn't he? No segue but why don't more people have (my) sense of humor? Party of one, looking for a seat. They were all "saved." Meaning, saved for phantom people plus a buffer zone seat. No one wants to sit by a stranger, apparently. I found a seat on the edge and predictably, it was saved. "Fine. Just know that you are missing out on a wonderful friendship and a lifelong Christmas cards!" The statement was met with slack jaw expressions. I continued on. On my way back up, someone kindly revealed she had a buffer seat and moved over. My potential friends waved me over. As I climbed over their legs I asked if they are ever nervous about sitting by strangers at these events. They nodded their heads. I continued, "I'm never worried. I'm always much stranger than the strangers." They nodded their heads again. They wouldn't g