It’s the Spring of 2020, and spirits in New Orleans are at an all-time low. Graduation? Cancelled. Dream job lined up in Costa Rica? Cancelled as well. “And now I have to move back to Atlanta….?” Becca thinks to herself. “This is seriously concerning.” The COVID-19 era had officially arrived. She calls dad, who, unsurprisingly, has a very detailed set of instructions for the return trip home. He just got off the phone with some local attorney in Atlanta, “Jeff Brickman,” who insists that Georgia’s governor is not closing the borders to residents. Dad: “Remember Joseph from high school?” Becca: “I don’t give a _____ about Joseph, and I don’t want to come back to Atlanta.” Strong start. January 17, 2021. Almost an entire year in quarantine, but it feels like freedom is near. It’s a crisp, sunny, manageably cool day in Virginia Highland. Joseph’s roommate, Justin, walks into their house. “If anyone wants to hang out at Neighbor’s [Pub] this afternoon, I’m meeting Bailee and some of her friends there.” Joseph, borderline offended by this ridiculous question, thinks to himself: “Does he realize how comfortable the couch is, that we have back-to-back NFL playoff games teed up for the afternoon?” But he hesitates, rethinks the situation. “Outdoor patios” were apparently “Covid kosher” these days, and the patio at Neighbor’s Pub did have plenty of TVs…. Joseph caves. “Sure, why not. But I just want to watch these games.” Equally strong start. The playoff games came and went. Tom Brady threw for 199 yards and 2 scores, out-dueling Drew Brees and the Saints, and Patrick Mahomes narrowly escaped an upset by Baker Mayfield’s Browns. The night had all but ended for one of our protagonists. Fortunately for anyone reading this, our other protagonist had different plans. Becca: “Oh my God, hey Joseph! How have you been? How’s law school?” Joseph, confused, thinks to himself, “Becca Meline? We’ve never exchanged a single word! How did she know I was in law school? Act normal, she can’t hurt you.” He manages to get out a response. “Hey Becca! It’s great to see you, how have you been?!” Hours later, the conversation continued on. Joseph was pulling out every reasonably appropriate joke in his arsenal. Becca did the same. Both knew they had the other in a bind. It was a duel of sorts. Joseph, jacked up on adrenaline, thinks to himself, “She’s going to laugh so hard at this next one.” Becca, equally confident in her comedic delivery, ponders her next move. “I’ve got him here - that sucker isn’t going to be able to handle my next study abroad joke!” There simply wasn’t enough time to finish this initial conversation, despite the hours that had passed. How did people typically coordinate a “follow-up” conversation so that they could finish getting out all their thoughts? Did something like that exist? Joseph certainly wasn’t aware of anything of the likes. The night ended, and so did their conversation. The door closed behind Becca (literally). Surrounded by an entire living room of friends, Joseph was bombarded with the same question: “Did you get her number?!” He had not even thought to ask. Becca, back at her Brookhaven apartment, considers her strange evening. “I guess he just wanted to be friends? We had such a great time, though?” Patience, that moron will figure it out! Then came the text the next day: “Hi this is Joseph Brickman from-” The message preview popped up on Becca’s phone. Out of instinct, she thought to herself, “Another campaign text?! I can’t wait for election season to end so I stop getting bombarded with these daily messages! DELETE.” Gotcha! She ALMOST deleted his robotic, serial killer text. But she didn’t. Which is how we got here five years later. Our protagonists fell in love very quickly, dated for years, and now have the pleasure of looking back at their story from the other side. Whether or not you believe in fate, being in the right place at the right time can make all the difference in the world.