More accurately, they met at Ashely’s front door, when Ben picked her up in a broken-down Jeep* to drive them to the Russian spa in suburban Philadelphia. More accurately still, they met a week earlier when Ben was at the Monterey Bay aquarium in northern California, ignoring the beautiful jellyfish in front of his face for the beautiful woman on his phone, while Ashley was ably riding a wave of insomnia in Philadelphia, having only recently returned from a year in Alaska. That is to say, like most couples these days, Ben and Ashley met on OK Cupid. But within mere minutes of meeting on OK Cupid they were off the app and chatting like real people (with iMessages). And within 2 days of meeting on OK Cupid, they had agreed that they should go on a date. And within 1 day of agreeing that they should go on a date, Ashley made the terrifying and brilliant suggestion that their date should take place at a Russian spa in suburban Philadelphia. At her friend’s birthday party. And within 1 minute of reading that invitation, Ben realized that he had no choice but to say yes to this utterly terrifying idea for a first date.** And then within 1 day of confirming that, yes ha ha, what a great idea ha ha, he’d love to go to her friend’s birthday party at the Russian spa ha ha ha ha, he was actually going to propose something similar ha ha, they were off the iMessages and chatting like old people (voice-based phone calls). And they both remarked, separately and together, on how very obvious and immediate their chemistry was. *Was the Jeep’s AC broken in July, necessitating windows-down driving on the highway? Was the stereo broken, resulting in music blaring from a Bluetooth speaker knocking about on the dash? Was conversation virtually impossible in this context? Yes, yes, and yes. **Ben remains open to suggestions regarding how he could have, in a cool and desirable way, said “actually that sounds terrifying how about coffee.”

So, on the occasion of their first date, Ben picked up Ashley in the broken-down Jeep, and he distractedly and loudly drove them through sweltering heat towards the Russian spa in suburban Philadelphia. And within 2 minutes of arriving at the spa, Ashley informed Ben that her friends were to be told that Ben and Ashley had already been on a date once before. Because who would really suggest going to a friend’s birthday party at a Russian spa as a first date?*** And Ben was not worried, at all, about meeting a friend of Ashley’s, whose birthday party he was crashing, and lying to her. But then, within 3 plunges in the ice pool, 3 rotations through the torturously hot rooms, 3 or so pounds of potatoes and mushrooms, and 1 barely uttered white lie, Ben and Ashley relaxed. Quite deeply, in fact! The spa is excellent, you should all go.**** ***Thankfully, the answer to that question is “Ashley Wick” ****For real, we will be going on Sunday afternoon, the day after the wedding, and all are invited.

In the weeks that followed, Ashley & Ben made a series of happy discoveries: they liked cooking together, and eating together; they liked each other’s apartments, and design sensibilities; they liked each other’s values, and friends, and dreams for the future; they felt at home with each other; they fell in love. They shared their disbelief in conspiratorial whispers: can it really be this obviously good, in this many ways? It felt impossibly lucky. Months passed, and their compatibilities mounted: they like each other’s families; they travelled together well; they moved in together and lived together happily, and easily; they parented together easily, and naturally. They knew where things were heading. They had suspected, rather early, that things would get there. There were awkward conversations about gemstone preferences, and then one day flowers were strewn about the apartment, and a happy question was asked, and answered. And wistful talks of the future turned into concrete plans, and they discovered, happily, that they liked event planning together too.