We can say we met on Hinge. Which is technically true. Or we can say that the stars aligned for us. Which is also, literally true. Three and a half years ago, Tory mentioned to her no-nonsense colleague that she was done with dating. The apps were leading her nowhere and she was ready to delete her accounts. Her friend told her to give it one last try, with a twist. She surprised Tory by asking for her astrological sign, birth date, time and year. A few minutes later, she came back with a plan: delete all filters. Enter in these signs and years, for what, according to her star chart, would be her perfect astrological match. Was that ridiculous? Yes. Was she totally game? Also yes. Tory wiped her Hinge account and entered in her perfect partner’s information. Unsurprisingly, nothing came up. Remembering the a/b testing done by futurist Amy Webb in her book, “Data, a Love Story” she tried one more time, expanding her match radius from 20 to 50 miles. Two accounts came up. One was a bot account that she immediately disregarded. The other was Patrick Keigan. Meanwhile, Patrick was driving all around Los Angeles. He had a type: Northwestern University entrepreneur. After misses with two others in the months previous, he realized he had been driving in the wrong direction all along. After matching with Tory, he turned the car north on a Wednesday night. He didn’t know then that he would never look back. Patrick walked into the bar and saw Tory, tuxedo jacket, silk scarf, dirty martini in hand. Tory saw Patrick, too good looking, probably insufferable. He didn’t expect things to go well. Neither did Tory. In fact, Patrick would like to note that he found out later her friends were sitting nearby in the same restaurant, because Tory was wholly expecting to be stood up. He showed up. It went well. He texted Tory the next day and told her how well he thought it went. Tory agreed, and asked what they should name their future twins. Patrick thought this was funny, not insane. It was a match. A few months later, Tory was walking down the street in St Petersburg, Florida, and stopped to ask directions inside a store. As the salesperson walked to the door to point her in the right direction, he stopped and looked her in the eye, piercingly. “This is weird,” he said, “but I’m a medium. Sometimes I have spirit guides pass along information to strangers that I meet. May I?” Tory, who has watched many seasons of Long Island Medium but who never thought this could ever happen in real life, nodded enthusiastically and about fell over. “You’re dating someone right now,” he said. “My guide tells me to tell you, he’s not like anyone before. Whatever has happened in the past, it won’t compare to this. This person is your match of a lifetime.” Tory stood staring at this complete stranger, mouth agape. “This person? This man? His middle name starts with a J, right?” She stared back at him in a slight panic. “I have no idea.” The man smiled. “The person you are seeing, whose middle name starts with a J, your soul has been waiting for his soul. Soulmates. Take care with him.” Tory thanked the man (what else could she do?) walked away and immediately texted Patrick: “Hey, random question: what’s your middle name?” Patrick quickly texted back: “Joseph, why?”

One night over takeout sushi, Patrick promised Tory that he would always save a perfect last bite for her on the combination sushi platter. Tory stared at him, chopsticks in midair. “Are you proposing right now?” “It’s all part of the proposal,” Patrick stared levelly back at her. “Marriage is about saying yes, in a in a bunch of small ways, every day. A proposal should be too.” He scooted a piece of fish toward her. In weeks following, Patrick proposed dozens of times. Alone, with friends, while cooking dinner, while out on walks, he proposed to Tory lifelong love, loyalty and excellent coffee in moment-sized increments. This was surprising to anyone caught in the middle of an extremely specific proposal, (“I propose always giving you the crunchiest bite of broccolini” was particularly alarming to the friends out to dinner with them one night). It prompted text messages like, “Are y’all done proposing yet? Can we celebrate?” Patrick had one more plan up his sleeve. In November 2021, Patrick and Tory lumbered up to the very top of the mountains overlooking Big Sur in their old Land Cruiser, Toots. There, in front of a spectacular sunset that stretched a hundred miles, Patrick proposed formally, beautifully and then led her over to a waiting charcuterie board. He, and the cheese, stole her heart for good.

Patrick and Tory imagined the perfect wedding day. It didn’t look like a traditional wedding. It was a great martini, a great meal, a great view, a great ride. We did it. We laughed, we danced, we shared vows that came from deep inside our souls and would surely make a crowd uncomfortable in their earnestness. We were both as present with each other as two people can be in a day. Having had the most intimate, emotionally connected wedding day with each other, we’re excited to now turn to you, our friends and family, to share in our joy, through a series of small and delightful events.

It’s our turn to bring the great food, drinks and love to you. In lieu of a large celebration, we are inviting you to a series of carefully curated dinners, in your city, to celebrate our union. Just show up, looking and feeling fabulous, and we’ll do the rest.