He tells me in jest, “I picked her up on a street corner in Honolulu.” He’s definitely joking about the implications, but the meet cute is 100% true.
Later, they became friends. Then one day a switch flipped and he biked to her house, bottle of bourbon in hand. She wasn’t home, and so he left it on the doorstep. But she came home just as he was leaving.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The spring sun was lovely in all her colors and we warmed our bellies with peppermint tea and sour patch kids. Just my kind of night with my kind of people.
Happy Monday. Go get ‘em tigers.