In the summer of 2019, Alex & I lived at the same apartment complex in Old Town Scottsdale but had never met. From time to time, the building would have elevator trouble. On this particular Monday, 2 of 3 elevators were out of service — and the functioning one was the furthest from where I always park. I had finished running the San Diego marathon the day before, and my legs were dead. When I started the long journey from my parked car to the elevator, my legs weren’t happy. I was traveling at approximately half the speed of a toddler who just learned to walk. So, I’m trudging along I can hear someone walking behind me. I thought to myself, “please just go around, this really is as fast as I can go.” Meanwhile, Alex had enough time to send a text to her friends about how freaking slow this dude is walking. We arrived at the elevator doors at the same time. To avoid the awkward silence, I hit her with my go-to neighbor greeting — “Hey! How’s it goin’?” A few lines of small talk ensues, and by the time we get in the elevator I’m already explaining/bragging that I had just finished a marathon — an obvious attempt to impress her. She responds sweetly. 100% fueled by the leftover “just-ran-a-marathon” confidence, I just jumped right to the chase — “Do you want to grab drinks sometime?” Something was telling her that I was a half-decent guy, because she accepted the invite and put her actual number in my phone. She got out on the floor below mine, and as the elevator doors are closing she says with a wave goodbye — “Thank you!” My heart melts. I think to myself, “I gotta text her right away”. And so I did. That Friday we went to Montauk down the street. I’m so glad I chose to say hello that Monday evening, and so glad she was open to it, because that elevator ride changed our life forever.