Morgan's version: We met at the saloon in Prospectors. Matt was there with his coworkers looking mighty fine on the dance floor. Morgan was there with some friends (she happened to be on a date that she didn't even know was a date) and didn't know many dances at the time, so she was slightly impressed and intrigued by him. However, upon further assessment, there was a glaring issue with his appearance that greatly unsettled her. When one of Morgan's friends stopped Matt and his friend while they were walking off the dance floor, Morgan (in her smidge intoxicated state) took the opportunity to let Matt know how she was really feeling. I believe her words were along the lines of: "Excuse me, I'd like you to take a look at yourself and then look at everyone else and tell me the difference." Matt let out a surprised and confused, "Umm". Morgan, even more annoyed now that she had to explain the problem, responded exasperatedly, "You are not wearing cowboy boots." Which prompted Matt to falsely state that there were no stores to get them in New Jersey. The conversation continued with Matt getting Morgan's number to share his YouTube playlist that contained dancing tutorials. We didn't talk to each other the rest of the night (totally Matt's fault, but could also be due to the fact that she went to the bar with other men). However, he did run into Morgan on the dance floor at one point (to which her friend claimed it was done on purpose) which tilted her. About two weeks later, Morgan reappeared at the saloon to take some dance lessons which Matt happened to be taking too. Morgan, once again, felt the need to approach Matt and say hello. This night contained lots of smiles and interactions while trying to learn a new dance. By the end of the night, Matt had asked if Morgan was going to be back on Friday. Friday afternoon Matt used Morgan's number for the first time to ask if Morgan was going to be at Prospectors. When she agreed, he proceeded to invite her over his apartment to practice some dances beforehand. Morgan, even with her knack for poor judgement, immediately told Matt no and accused him of being a serial killer. Although Matt seemed slightly offended by this accusation, met Morgan at the bar later that night. They hit it off. As Matt was walking Morgan to her car that night, he was asking where he could buy cowboy boots. Morgan responded, "What're you doing tomorrow?" Hook line and sinker.

Matt's version: I was out at a line dancing bar with my friends from work. I was out there tearing up the dance floor the majority of the time that night (as is always the case). I had just completed one of my favorite dances called "Going HAM" which is danced to the song Crank It Up by Colt Ford. I walked off the dance floor to talk with my one friend (also named Morgan) and he was talking with a friend that (my) Morgan was there with. As soon as I approached my friend, (my) Morgan promptly came up to me and without introducing herself or saying hello, immediately chastised my choice of footwear for that evening's dancing. I was wearing a nice pair of Chukka Boots manufactured by Little Penguin and made of genuine leather mind you (very comfortable and stylist to wear with jean pants). I rebuked her accusation stating, "woah, what are you saying? These are very nice (and expensive mind you)!". Morgan doubled down on her opinion saying that it was "illegal" what I was doing not wearing cowboy boots while country line dancing, but was also amazingly confused as to how I got that good without cowboy boots! Perplexed by the starting of the conversation, I quickly transitioned into talking about my YouTube playlist, which contained a lot of the dancing tutorials I had used to practice a bit before going to the bar each night. I offered to send it to her and she accepted so I asked for her number (which she totally didn't realize was an impromptu pick-up line) to send her the playlist. A week or so later on a Wednesday night, I just so happened to run into her again with one of her friends and we chatted a bit more that night. A few days later, with our recent interactions on my mind, I invited her to a pregame with some friends before going out to the bar and to practice dances (because frankly they all sucked at dancing and it was embarrassing). So I thought it would be a good idea to invite Morgan to the pregame. She responded to my invite with hesitation saying "Random pregame at some guy's place who I barely know? Sounds like something I would totally do." However, she then stated she couldn't get there in time and couldn't verify that I wasn't a serial killer (she was also too busy looking up my voting record...) and we agreed to meet up at the bar. To be honest, I didn't even know when she got there, but eventually I did see her across the bar. Apparently, I walked right past her one brother (yes, she took her brothers to the bar for safety; yes, he was offended I didn't know it was him for some silly reason), which was used against me at a later date. But nonetheless, I did approach her and started some small talk and also met her one brother Joe and his friend. Eventually, after some dancing, we settled into the corner nook of the bar and got to know each other more. At one point, I strategically mentioned that my Dad was with the NJ State Police to try to calm Morgan's fears of me being a serial killer. She thought I was joking and refuted my claim stating that her dad was a NJ State Trooper as well. She was even more skeptical when I said my Dad's badge number was #4444, but her mind skipped over this because she was eager to exclaim that her Dad's badge number was lower (apparently a big deal in the NJSP world). As our officially unofficial date was ending, I walked her out to her car and she asked if I wanted to get cowboy boots tomorrow (which was the start of her changing the way I dress). I emphatically claimed that there was no where in NJ to get boots, but Morgan was adamant she knew a place. I agreed on a late morning date the next day, of which would be my last first date and the date in which my face hurt so much afterwards from smiling and laughing so much! The rest, as the Gaugler's frequently exclaim, is history!