We met in Denver, Colorado, the day after Valentine's Day, February 15. We were both invited to a mutual friend's party on a Friday night. This was one of the few weekends Zach was not working, and it was one of the few nights Megan left the house. Zach was in his eighth month living in Colorado. Megan has been here for three years.

We met near the Skyline Chili dip, because Zach generally stays within eyesight of the snacks at any social gathering, and Megan struck up conversation. We continued to talk about anything and everything until everyone in the party left for the nearby Irish Pub. Meg brought Zach along. After approximately one pint of Guinness, Zach and Megan decided the better spot to be was the pizza place next door.

The next weekend Zach took Megan to the Denver Contemporary Art Museum. A cunning ruse that made him look like a sophisticated man of culture and not a boy fresh out of college who did not own a laundry hamper nor a headboard but had 4 bicycles in his bedroom. At the time, Megan was militantly anti-cycling.

Approximately one more date occurred when Megan forced Zach to celebrate his birthday at a nearby trendy Mexican restaurant. This is where both agreed that any Mexican restaurant worth eating in should never charge for salsa, provide a menu the size of the table, and have booths engraved with images of the Latin American countryside atop torn vinyl cushions.

Registry