

We were two complete strangers; they were two determined match makers, when does that ever go right?
It was the first of July, and we all found ourselves at the Rusty Nail in downtown Stowe, VT. I was there with some friends, and had just received my drink when I saw them approach our table out of the corner of my eye.
They were arguing about Michael Moore’s newest film, they appeared to be a couple, and I had never seen them, when the female, blonde and about my age, turned to me and said, “What do you think, about the film?” Unbeknownst to me, they were scheming something, and I had just taken the bait. I engaged them in conversation, when a third party approached the table. They introduced him as Tony, he introduced himself as a tennis instructor. This was ironic and unfortunate for him, as I had already been approached by another such “tennis pro” that evening. Consequently, “Tony” did not find me too kind, nor did I find Tony too interesting.


We parked and padded out on the sand, sandals in hand. We stopped to look at the sunset and Tony, standing behind me with his arms around my waist, said with emotion in his voice: “You know you’re my best friend.” When I turned to him, he went down on one knee… after we established we were now fiancés, we stopped a couple to take a photo; Tony had remembered the camera. When it was discovered our batteries were dead, the two demanded their teenaged daughter hand over hers from her camera. “They need them more,” her father said. We laugh about it still.

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