An invitation for every kind of gathering.

Lab coats and goggles are provided. The slime goes home with you.

Ten laps each, helmets provided. Pizza after the last lap.

The DJ starts at sundown.

Dinner on the patio, for as long as the light lasts.

Frozen margaritas for the grown-ups all afternoon.

Book your own flight. Saturday dinner on the lanai is our treat.

Private room until one. Duets are mandatory after midnight.

Croquet, cornhole and a block tower that always falls. Teams picked at the gate.

A shower for Aria & Idris’s girl. Wear purple.

The committee said yes on Thursday. The beetles have been informed.

His grandfather is in charge of the carne asada. Nobody argues.

A sunset sail before college.

The heaters are on, the blankets are out, and the skyline does the fireworks.

Wear something that sparkles. Heels off at 12:01.

The start line is by the boathouse. Run it or walk it; everyone eats pie at the finish.

Every August since 1998. Bike parade at two.

The paperwork goes in the fire pit at eight.

The gravy simmers from noon, and Aurelio still won’t share the recipe.

He pulls every bowl to order, right in front of you.

We pour it all out on newspaper.

Gin fizzes shaken until your arm aches. Ask for Ottoline and say the fizz is flat.

Zora is shaking Manhattans and the hi-fi is warmed up.