Kat and Reg met at a friend's party on August 25, 2007.
It was August 25, 2007, and I had a full day planned: haircut in Soho, trip to the Upper East Side to meet my friend Sue's new baby, and then on to a party in Alphabet City for one of Sue's friends, Sara. I didn't know Sara that well, so I went with another of Sue's friends. The party was just getting underway when, for whatever reason, I noticed this tall sandy-haired guy walk in. I was in the middle of a conversation with other people, but I watched as the tall guy and his friend greeted Sara, and then tried to go out to the garden. The door was hard to find and I remember making wild airplane-traffic-director arm gestures to try to show them how to find the door to the garden. (Yes, I am the life of every party. Well, if you need wild arm gestures.) Anyway, hours passed with no more contact.
We didn't actually meet until I got in line to go to the bathroom -- a small, unisex, single-person bathroom. The line was 4 or 5 people deep, so I was preparing to be bored when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tall guy standing near the bathroom line. I said, "Oh, hey! You're with Sara's party, aren't you?" And we started talking. The conversation went so well that I let four or five people pass me in line before I finally ducked in there (I really did have to go!). We talked about a ton of stuff: his love of New Orleans and Battlestar Gallactica, his trip to Paris -- I'm sure I prattled on about something also. I remember telling him about how my brother and I had gone to see the New York v. LA soccer game, and how confused I had been when the entire audience kept chanting "Red Bull! Red Bull! Red Bull!" I kept thinking, you people need LESS caffeine, not more. Halfway through the game I realized the name of the New York team was The Red Bulls. Reg laughed at my story, and professed a general ignorance of sports -- and I hugged him. He laughed again and gave me a look that I couldn't quite figure out -- at the time I thought he thought I was crazy. We kept talking and talking and, around 2 in the morning, my friend said she was leaving. I didn't want to stay at the party with a guy I'd just met, so I made a split-second, executive decision: I was leaving too. (Also, my heels were KILLING me.) I shoved my business card in his hand and ran out the door. When I got home that night, before I fell asleep, I thought, huh. Hmmn. That guy was really intelligent but really laid back; that's probably exactly what I need. (I swear to God that's what I thought!) He called a day and a half later.
Brooklyn, Saturday night, late August '07 - I was at my friend Chloe's backyard BBQ. The party was really for her family but she'd invited me too. I had been enjoying myself, sipping wine and enjoying the company when Martin, my best man, called. Martin and I were two single guys who very often went out on the town. Sometimes, going out was easy. Other times, like that evening in particular, I just plain didn't feel like it. But, as Martin reminded me on more than one occasion, I had once promised him to force me to go out if ever if I put up a fight and said crazy things like "I don't feel like going out." So, after only a few minutes on the phone, I was on my way to meet Martin.
An hour later we arrived at Nublu, an East Village bar/club with live music. It was his friend Sara's birthday party. Martin knew Sara of course and maybe a few other people, and I knew nobody except for Martin. For a while, we stood together speaking to various people (Martin did most of the talking). Eventually he made his way to the bar, and I found an accommodating pole against which to lean. Some time passed, and I realized that where I was standing was basically in the bathroom line (I swear I had the same thing happen to me in college - repeatedly). Here I was just trying to lean against a pole, look inconspicuous, and enjoy my whisky, and I probably came off as some weirdo hall monitor. Didn't matter though, I wasn't looking for anybody (or so I thought). I just wanted to chill out, be with friends, and at some point crawl back into bed.
And then out of nowhere, like an angel appearing suddenly out of the darkness, there she was, a vision, a beautiful woman, smiling at me. I think I looked over my shoulder to see if there was somebody behind me that she knew. But to my surprise, she was looking at me. And then I smiled, and she was still there, which was even more surprising, because I was grinning like Jaws from Moonraker!!! And then this angelic creature spoke, and it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. It wasn't very long until we were locked in conversation. I took a risk and broke out my "A" game. I told her I didn't know anything about sports, and asked her if she'd ever seen the best show on television ever: Battlestar Galactica. Amazingly, two hours passed and there we were together, completely ignoring our friends, and totally oblivious to our surroundings.
And then, out of nowhere (again), a girlfriend took her by the arm and pulled her towards the door. She obviously needed go, but to my relief, she whisked a business card from her purse and threw it at me - literally. In a flash she was gone. This simple card, the only vestige of what was possibly the best night of my life, was now gold to me. "Katherine M. Vogele," it read. Two nights later I called her, and a week later we had our first date.