Yesterday I met up with an old boyfriend and his soon-to-be wife. The weird part? I introduced them. In fact, after the first few months that he and I dated, I knew that we were the wrong match. Soon after, I also knew that he and a girl I was working with at the time would be the perfect fit. Call me Cupid, or call me crazy, but I had to get them together.
Rick and I--yes, let's call him Rick--met at an art gallery when I was 27. I had gone to see an exhibit in Soho, some wine and cheese event hosted by a painter friend of mine. My friend Jamie was enamored with his suit from the moment we saw him. She had a boyfriend, though, and decided to make it her job to get us paired up by the end of the night. "Are those cufflinks?" I kept saying over and over. I remember hoping he'd toss them off and roll up his sleeves a little.