A long winded author once said, "[i]t was the best of times, it was the worst of times[.]" First written in 1859, they rang true in the Fall of 2015. I was (for some reason) in law school, still living at my parents house, while Bridget was fairly recently returned from her service in the Peace Corps, having lived in a village in Burkina Faso for the past two years. Not one to waste time, she was working towards her Masters in Public Health at the University of Minnesota. Both being harried graduate students, we relished the chance to let loose. Not only was this a chance to dress up fancy and dance with friends, it was also the first inaugural Mitchell Hamline School of Law Barrister's Bar (law school prom). You see, Hamline and William Mitchell had merged the year prior, meaning lots of new faces and connections. One of those was Bridget's cousin, Kaela. She and I had International Law together, and got to know each other some, though not much. But, a little was enough! Kaela invited Bridget with to the Ball, letting her know a very handsome bald man *cough cough* would maybe be there as well, and that's the night we met! After lots of dancing and chatting, I offered to drive Bridget and Kaela home at the end of the night. When we pulled up to Kaela's street, I commented "hey, I grew up in this area! Third house on the right on this street!" Awkward silence led to excited yelps - this was the night we found out my parents had sold their home, the house I grew up in, to Kaela's family when we moved out! After I dropped off Kaela, I drove Bridget to her apartment. Being we were still somewhat strangers, in a car at 2:00 a.m., I did the romantic thing and shook her hand, and wished her a great night. After about five minutes, and before driving away, I decided to send the most non-confusing follow up text possible: "Hey it was great to meet you, when we get married, we'll have the greatest meet-cute ever!" The rest, as they say, is history!