20.February.2015 A man was on his way downtown to meet up with a buddy. He was running early and looking to kill some time. He had passed by the wood-planked storefront hundreds of times. Tonight it called out. Passing through a heavy metal door, he found himself packed into a crowd of neighborhood regulars and awkward first dates. She noticed him immediately, but didn’t let on. He perfectly fit the cliché description of a tall, dark, handsome stranger and stood out prominently in the swarm of Brookline housewives and twenty-somethings. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked. “Whisky.” She overpoured and slid the drink his way. At the top of his tab, she scribbled an identifier for the barback: "Man standing with beard". After a few more whiskeys, he drew his card to pay and read the handwritten note that wasn’t meant for him. He laughed, bearing a half smile that caught her attention. “Too bad, I thought you wrote your number for me.” He said. It was a line, but she liked his confidence. A couple of texts were exchanged the next day, with promises from the man to be in touch after his work trip. Then came two weeks of radio silence. 7.March.2015 He taxied home from the airport, showered and walked blindly back into the same bar, not knowing who would be there to greet him. They had their first date that night and closed down a different bar, together.