“Fortunately the opportunity to initiate contact presented itself: he had sped by the sign instructing cyclists to walk their bikes.”

Photo by PoPville flickr user Joe Flood

Ed. Note: To be clear, OP is kidding around with this note, I mean it happened but obviously she is kidding around. I preface this because history has taught me that some will be confused.

“Dear PoPville,

I may have fallen for someone this weekend… I can’t stop thinking about this guy I encountered in Rock Creek Park. (Fair warning: this might be long, but why should love have a character limit?)

It was a beautiful Sunday in the park, and people were out picnicking, biking, hiking, running, and walking. As I ran past Peirce Mill, a cyclist caught my eye – swarthy, lean, coral shorts. Fortunately the opportunity to initiate contact presented itself: he had sped by the sign instructing cyclists to walk their bikes.

He must have been so stunned by me that he didn’t see the sign or the other passersby. I knew I needed to make the first move, so I pointed out “the sign says to walk your bike” and turned down to the path by the creek. A minute later, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, zooming through the grass toward me.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” he yelled. I repeated myself.

“Why?” he asked.

“Safety,” I replied.

“Your safety or mine?” (“Yours and mine”?!! Eeeeee! But does this mean that he’s not thinking about children?)

“Everybody’s.”

“Fucking cunt!” (How does he know me so well already?)

“You bet!”

He sped away over the footbridge, completely missing another “Walk bike” sign… I do love a bad boy. I watched him ride away, breathtaken, and continued south on the path alongside Beach Drive. But our story wasn’t over yet. A few minutes later, he whizzed by me again, calling out “on your left” and virtually sweeping me off me feet (twice now that he came back to see me – that’s some romcom shit). I thought about giving my contact info to a park ranger in case he came back around, but I was nearly done with my 10k. And I was flummoxed – nothing like this has ever happened to me. Is he the romantic type who will be waiting for me in the park next weekend, I wonder? I can’t wait to see him again – I keep thinking about the perfect thing to say and how I’ll stop him in his tracks. I wish I had taken a picture of that unforgettable ass.

I’m planning the wedding already – it’ll be in Rock Creek Park, of course, near the site of our fateful meeting. The procession will be me and my bridesmaids running, his side on bike. Or maybe we’ll do a courthouse ceremony? He looks great in orange.

A few questions for you and your readers:

1. Is it too Bridezilla to ask my future bridesmaids to start Couch to 5K now so they’re ready for my big day?

2. Suggestions on how to sanitize our “meet cute” story for my parents?

3. Can anyone recommend a good urologist/plastic surgeon? I think there might be some…anatomical deficiencies… but I have great health insurance, and we can beat this together.

Anyway, thanks for sharing my joy, and I promise to send a Save the Date. And a link to our registry, in case anyone wants to get me handcuffs for the honeymoon.”