Preston and Adam met in May of 2013. At the time, Adam was working at Ben & Jerry’s in Albany, and Preston was employed at Bombers Burrito Bar across the street. On the afternoon of his 22nd birthday, Preston and his friends were drinking at Bombers. One of his friends, regrettably not yet 21, was in Ben & Jerry’s instead. She soon texted Preston that he should come get some ice cream and, while he was here, perhaps check out the attractive employee behind the counter. So he did, and per store policy, Adam gave him a free Birthday scoop. Preston returned the next day and they talked for almost an hour. Then he came back the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, until eventually he was coming to see Adam whenever he was working. Yet as interested in each other as they clearly were, Preston had just graduated from UAlbany and would be moving back home before the month was through. They couldn’t begin something even if they wanted to. Then a week before his move-out date, Preston waltzed into Ben & Jerry’s, ate a small cup of ice cream, and dropped a dollar bill in Adam’s tip jar before leaving again. Immediately, Adam regretted not giving him his number, and proceeded to sulk for the remainder of his shift. Later that night, though, while Adam was mopping the floors, Preston walked back through the doors. Right away, he asked Adam why he hadn’t texted him. Before Adam could ask him how he could possibly have done that when they hadn’t exchanged numbers, Preston reached inside Adam’s tip jar and pulled out the bill he had put in there earlier. On the small piece of paper taped to the bill’s underside, and clearly visible to anyone willing to look, were ten digits written in blue ink. And that, as they say, was that.