It's best to show up to the Greek Fest thirsty, with a grumbling tummy, the way my friend Steve and I did last Saturday. We parked and walked up the University Ave drive at the Greek Orthodox Church. A band played enthusiastically onstage. Lots of people watched, but they were so far back (and seated) that I almost didn't notice at first. We stood and observed for a minute. Some people, Steve said, seem to think bands bite. But then, maybe they just wanted to leave room for the dancers, who later whirled and twirled in the open space.

After ordering up two starter beers and chatting with a friend, we took our place in the lengthening food tent line. The menu was impressive in length and variety, and the productivity in the tent itself was impressive in its efficiency. Many cooks lined the back while several other people filled orders, loading up our tray cafeteria-style with moussaka, spanakopita, and dolmades. Then came another cafeteria flashback -- trying to find a friendly looking table to sit at. We needn't have worried. The weather was nice, and the festival spirit in the air -- or it was the Greek beers we were double-fisting, or my friend's life-of-the-party vibe -- and it conspired to make us and the four middle-aged women at our table instant friends. There was even impromptu dancing, a meeting of old friends, and the making of more new ones, mainly a friendly couple who eventually left when the woman, who was pregnant, decided the baby wanted to try all the kinds of baklava.

Above everything, the festival seemed to serve as a gathering place for all kinds of people, Greek or not. And we ended up people watching like it was our job; an older man across the way shoveled food into his mouth like it was his last meal, and disregarded the part of it that ended up on his chin. A woman with white hair, a yellow jacket, and this incredible shade of light, bright pink lipstick (not coral; hot pink?), sat with a young boy, catching our attention immediately for her bold makeup choice. We forgot to deliver our planned compliment before we left. Hopefully she didn't think we were rude strangers who laughed and pointed. Really, we were admiring her, along with everyone else. Such an interesting, beautiful mix of people makes you remember why you get up and leave the house.