I was at the Stacked Pickle in Fishers with my family on March 14, 2013 to watch my older brother play in a band. I noticed that there was a super cute host on shift and I spent most of the night eyeing him - I even worked up the courage to ask him where the restroom was (in which he just pointed to it) <3. The show was over and it was time to leave so my family packed up and headed out to the car. I don't know what got into me but I decided to go back inside and leave my phone number on a scrap piece of paper titled "to the cute host" and left it on the host stand when no one was around. I hadn't told anyone that I did that, and honestly did not expect a response but a few weeks later I got a text from the cute host, Kevin. I'll never forget my sister and I literally jumping on our beds with pure joy when he texted me. We texted for a few days before he asked me out on a date to Olive Garden and we definitely hit it off because they had to kick us out at 10PM when they closed - the rest is history. <3 Lura

It was a night on the job that started out just like any other. There was a band scheduled for that evening, and the bands always brought big time crowds to the Pickle, so I knew I had to be on my A-game. Being a host carried a lot of responsibility: chatting with the regulars, seating the servers in the exact right order to avoid heated exchanges and hurt feelings, and most importantly, unenthusiastically pointing in the general direction of the bathroom anytime someone asked. At that point in my career it was all pretty much standard procedure. What would've otherwise been just a normal night came and went without much drama. I went home at the end of my shift knowing nothing of what had actually transpired. Cut to two weeks later, I was back at work one afternoon wrapping up a pile of (mostly) clean silverware when another host approached me with a little scrap of paper. She said one of the servers had given it to her a few weeks back. She was also a host, and thought that the 'cute blonde' description preceding the phone number was made in reference to her (despite the fact that she was a light brunette at best). In any case, she ended up connecting the dots and and realized that day that it was probably intended for me, and the rest, as they say, is history. (In fairness there was also a brief period of time where I held onto the scrap of paper because, you know, who knows what kind of weirdo is going to be on the other end of that number, but in the end I made the definitively correct call and ended up having an amazing dinner with the weirdo at Olive Garden) - KM