It happened on a seemingly ordinary Wednesday night; November 7th, to be exact. The weather had just retired all attempts to hold the cool autumn breeze in its grasp, and allowed the tired maple trees to cast away the few remaining scarlet leaves from their scraggly branches. There was a change in the air, and the people of Seattle could feel the unforgiving Winter Warlock break out his cauldron of snow storms and snapping winds, which always seem to find a way through the fibers of even the heaviest winter coat, and tear away at your bones. Pumpkin Spice Latte’s were being traded in for Peppermint Mochas, and stylish suede boots were tucked in the back of the closet to make room for rubber goulashes. Indeed, there was an air about the air, and no two people felt the change more than two strangers to each other, Griff and Maria.

Maria, 23, a self proclaimed fierce and independent city girl, had just recently decided that it was finally time to start dating after some time of solitude. She accepted dates from the overly polite flower guy at the local shop, the banker who thought he was much smarter than he actually was, and the sailor who hated Christmas (NOT good…….). Alas, at the end of every date, Maria was left with the same emptiness as before, despairing at the thought that love might just pass her by.

Sensing her over-dramatic grief, some friends of Maria’s offered to set her up on a blind date. “A blind date?” she scoffed, “Never!” That evening, after milling over the offer in her head, Maria accepted the blind date (her friends that had set her up were also going to join them), and was set to meet the group at a nearby speakeasy restaurant, Chez Gaudy, that Wednesday night, November 7th. Arriving promptly at 7.30, Maria walked into Gaudy to find her friends sitting at the bar, but there was no date! He was running late, they said, he had to work later than expected, and would be arriving soon. So all there was left to do was have a seat and wait…

Meanwhile, across town, we find Griff, 31, a studly math whiz, enjoying himself at his weekly accounting happy hour. Being that it was a Wednesday, and most of the men had families to go home to, Happy Hour wrapped up rather early, but apparently Griff still had a bit of the party bug in him. After all, the only woman he had to come home to was Bumpy, his 10 year old cat, and for those of you who know her, is a very temperamental and territorial cat with feline OCD (Griff claims that she’s very loving, but that’s still up for debate!! =)). After paying his tab, he found his way to the Triple Door, a downtown musiquarium with good drinks and even better music. Sadly, there was no band playing, and the bar was dead. Griff gave in, and decided to call it a night. He Bundled up and sauntered his way home to Capital Hill. Just shy of a block away from home, Griff passed a small bistro in an old brick building, one he passed to and from work everyday. Looking in, he saw the warm glow of the candles on the oddly decorated tables, and the people inside sipping their warm sambuca and feasting on decadent wasabi grilled cheese sandwiches. He had always meant to stop in, but it always seemed like an afterthought. With the night still young, he threw all caution and curfew (Bumpy gets mad if he doesn’t come home on time!) to the brisk winter wind, and passed under the rickety wooden sign and through the doors of the one and only Chez Gaudy.

Returning to Maria, her date had shown up 30 minutes late. He pompously walked up to the bar, and introduced himself as “a very important bicycle messenger for the greater downtown district.” Hmmm. She was not impressed by his delusions of grandiosity, and the fact that he was still wearing his spandex biker one-sie and helmet wasn’t helping the situation morph into a “good first date.” Maria immediately ordered another generous glass of wine as the Bike Man found his seat kitty corner to her at the bar.

As Griff walked into Chez Gaudy, he noticed that all the tables were occupied by cozy couples transfixed in one another’s gaze. The small bar, however, was nearly full, save for two seats at the end. He saddled up to the bar and ordered a Sessions beer, and found himself easily conversing with other patrons of the bar, all the while Maria was seated right next to him, on her horrible blind date.

After an hour and a half of the worst date of her life, Maria could hardly stand to be in the same room as the Bike Man any longer. Checking her polite manners at the curb after her 3rd glass of wine, Maria briskly downed the last bit of wine in her glass, and fluidly swung around in her bar stool, intent on gathering her things and leaving. As she turned to stand up, she noticed a very handsome gentleman sitting to her immediate left at the bar. He was wrapped up in a conversation with a guy to his left, and all Maria could do was just sit and smile at him. As he turned to take another drink of his beer, he noticed her looking at him, and turned towards her. “Hi,” she said cheerfully. “Well Helllooooooooooooooooo,” was his adorable reply.

And with that, the air became a little less bitter, the snow fell a little more softly, and in the warmth of the little Capital Hill dinette, love had shown its way into the hearts of two people who, at that very moment, opened their arms to one another for the rest of their lives.