The modern love story, sponsored by Hinge. His profile had just enough to be suspicious, yet wholesome - decent photos with his sister (or past girlfriend??? I couldn't tell at this point because the blond hair, green eyes were throwing me off), a witty prompt answer, and a photo that showed a decent body (let's be honest, this was the real catcher). When we finally met in person, I was bracing myself for someone at least 3 inches shorter and 25% more disappointing. Instead, I got a guy who, upon seeing me, enthusiastically waved with BOTH hands - like a golden retriever who just spotted his human after a long day at daycare. That should have been a red flag. It wasn't. It was somehow... endearing? Alarming? Still unclear. A few drinks did the job. We went to Boxcar, an arcade bar, and spent the next three hours roasting each other and entertaining ourselves in the most competitive games of Mario Cart and Foosball. Almost three years later, we're still mocking each other daily, still pretending to be shocked that a DOUBLE-HAND waver and a sarcasm addict could actually make it work.