My husband and I met at a youth conference (called EFY for those who may know) in Texas. No, we were not youth, although that would have been very romantic. He was a counselor. I was the nurse. (Still romantic, right?)
Well, during the first week we mostly said a few words here and there, like "Hey, flirty flirty flirt flirt!" or "Flirt! Words are only coming out of my mouth so that I can flirt!" However, at the end of that first week we finally did TALK...over Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. (Outside of the blogosphere this may be considered nerd-territory, but for the record: we are both very hip except when we're not.)
We were at one of the youth dances, chaperoning and saving lives. I was passing through the foyer outside the dance hall (it was really a university gym, but I'm telling my love story and 'dance hall' sounds much better) when I saw my husband-to-be (no those words did not go through my head...yet) lounging under the stairwell. He was reading the aforementioned HP novel. I think I said something really smart like, "Why aren't you dancing?" followed by a conversation about his reading choice.
A handsome young man secreted under the stairwell reading Harry Potter! How could I resist? Plus, he was reading a book I'd read and enjoyed. Had he chosen to dance that night, maybe things would have ended differently. I'm just glad he chose a book.