I was reading wedding announcements in the Sunday New York Times, the ones that go into detail about how the people met, what their parents do, what they had at the reception, and where they’re going to live.  This week there are two lawyers in New Orleans who met at a lawyers’ pickup football game there.  They ran into each other — really ran headfirst into each other.  She had a concussion, which somehow gave him new confidence; his solicitous follow-up calls turned into dates, etc.  Anyway, the announcement said her mother wrote a play, Dance of the Seven-Headed Mouse — what?  Do I have a concussion?  No, it turns out to be a real play. if not a wildly successful one.

Another of this week’s couples are a cake decorator and an explosive ordnance disposal technician.  I’m sorry to say the obvious cute meeting story there is not how they met.  They went to Quinnipiac together, that’s all.

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