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Alex & Kim’s Wedding

Palm trees, a blaring midday summer sun, and steel drums ringing in the distance. Fresh seafood, a tiki bar, and smooth sand disappearing into a gentle tide. At a glance you would think we were at a resort in the Caribbean, a place where shirts and shoes were optional. Instead, Alex and Kim’s family and friends bounced around cocktail hour in gorgeous dresses and tailored suits, plucking hor d'oeuvres from trays like berries from a wild bush. Far from the Caribbean and close to our home, Heather and I were soaking in the experience at the Crescent Beach Club in Bayville, Long Island.

We first met Kim and Alex at a brewery in Huntington to talk over their wedding details over a couple beers. I remember how quickly we got to sharing stories and laughing, enjoying a comfortable conversation that usually takes a glass of wine or two to get to at a dinner party. As a couple, they just kind of get it. They are consummate professionals, thoroughly enjoy one another’s company, and ask the right questions. They are no bullshit in the best way possible--meaning--they like to have fun but they get shit done.

Kim and Alex aptly met at a quintessential Halloween dance party sponsored by the student bar association while studying at Villanova Law School. It still surprises me how fickle romantic beginnings can be. Kim and Alex, like Heather and I, so easily could’ve never been a thing if Alex and I hadn’t taken our respective relationship initiatives. “Kim did the mature thing that any self-respecting, young 20-something does the next day in class: ignored Alex and pretended she had never seen him before in her life. Luckily Alex had more maturity (or less self-respect) and immediately approached Kim to ask her to go out to dinner a few nights later.” Moral of the story? Shoot your shot and go to professional parties that serve free booze.

At the end of the night Heather and I first met, I walked her home to her apartment on West 105th street. When we stopped at the corner and she said, “well, this is me,” I told her how nice it was to meet her and that I would love to see her again. She quickly replied, “me too,” before nervously doing a 180 and began to walk away. Now, if I hadn’t been a little tipsy and characteristically overconfident, I would’ve just taken that gesture as a rejection. Instead, I blurted out, “hey, you know, your phone number would be great for something like that,” and lucky for me, she turned around as I handed her my phone.

That one line was the difference between going our separate routes in life and winding up in Jamaica together on our honeymoon. I still remember that feeling of limbo--those uncertain moments when you’ve shot your shot and the ball is up there rattling on the rim. But in my experience, and I’m sure Kim and Alex would agree--we would all prefer sitting on a lounge chair on a beach, sipping on a cold beer while reading a book as steel drums ping-and-pang as leaves of palm trees sway in the wind--rather than not shoot at all, doing the 1-2 step at a law school Halloween party waiting for someone to ask me out to dinner.