In July of 2010, on one of those quintessential hot, thick, Brooklyn nights, Rachael was on her way to one of those quintessential summertime Brooklyn rooftop parties. Steve was standing outside of Legion bar, about to head back to his apartment with some friends. They had met months earlier through mutual friends, maybe even liked the way the other was put together, but it was the way things lined up on that particular night that set in motion this exact trajectory. A series of small decisions, coincidences, accidents, and a very high humidity level, started to change two peoples' lives in strange and perfect ways.
On that night, on the corner of Humboldt and Metropolitan, Rachael and Steve's independent plans put them directly in each others' path. They nearly ran into each other under a streetlight and couldn't help but stop to talk. While their two sets of friends kept walking on their predetermined routes, the two of them were caught off guard by finding the other one staring into their face unexpectedly. Both already enmeshed in what they were doing, without knowing each other more than casually, without the others' phone number, only talked briefly about their separate plans for the night; Steve mentioned his dog Fiona, Rachael mentioned how she loved shepherd-husky mutts; and then caught up with their respective friends. Both left wishing they could have included the other in their plans, wishing their plans were with each other. An hour later, after a complex telephone domino, a shirtless bike ride, and embracing the unfamiliar, their plans did include one another. And they have included the other one ever since.