How We MEt

Alex’s version

April 10th, 2014: I set out to play my first gig with a country band at a Texas-themed hotel inside a new mall development. My first brush with Austin’s notorious rush-hour traffic left me running 40 min late and I was a bit worried about playing 3 hours of music I didn’t know particularly well. But I was wearing my pearl-snap shirt and cowboy boots, like any good Jewish Northeastern boy would do and I was ready to roll with the punches.

Lo and behold that was the night I’d meet my future wife.

Sheila was sitting at a table with some of the band’s friends and we met during our first set break. I had moved to town about two weeks before and was honestly so excited just to make a friend. Fortunately for me she also happened to be gorgeous, easy to talk to, and endlessly charming. We kept chatting between sets and eventually closed the bar down continuing our conversation into the parking lot. I remember she took particular pleasure during a rough moment in Zac Brown’s “Colder Weather” where the timing between the vocalist and I fell apart, garnering a sneak peak of one of her famous “Sheila Shakes.” She wouldn’t give me her phone number but insisted that she never gave her number out. Instead I settled for an add on Facebook.

We met up that weekend at Adelbert’s Brewery’s 3rd anniversary party and had a delightful time consuming too many Belgian beers in the sun. Later that night we went to catch some music downtown and were approached by a homeless man asking if I wanted to buy “my wife” a flower. Good foreshadowing right?! We went on to spend about every possible moment together for 2 weeks after meeting. It was organic and fresh and just felt right- we’ve never looked back since. But up until that point we were just friends and I was a little nervous to make a move that I’d regret.

Our “first date” was a couple weeks after meeting and it was pretty epic. Sheila arrived at my house looking all disheveled because she was knocking at the wrong door (we lived in the back of the house). Fortunately I found her quickly and we drove out to Jester King Brewery. It was a beautiful sunny day to sit outside catching the breeze while sipping sour beer. All was well and fine until Sheila rejected my first kiss and left me scratching my head. Maybe I had read the signs wrong?

I was a little bummed but she was still chatty and kept stroking my hair as we set off to have a picnic at The Salt Lick BBQ afterward. I tried to kiss her again after dinner. No such luck. I figured she really wanted to stick to being friends with me. Luckily for me she initiated our first kiss about an hour later back at my place.

Sheila’s version

I moved to Austin in February 2014, Alex arrived that March, and we met in April. April 10 to be exact, but for some reason we spent the first two years of our relationship thinking it was April 2??

After a long day at work followed by a consulting gig, I surprisingly kept my makeup on and met up with friends at the Lonestar Court to see a friend’s band play. It was country music which is not really my thing, but it is Texas after all! I was pretty excited when they played Zac Brown Band’s “Colder Weather” but for some reason the keys guy just couldn’t get it right...

During the break, the bass player asked for my number. I had a rule that I don’t give out my number, so I told him to add me on Facebook which was silly because I had made myself unsearchable. I turned on the feature in grad school so that potential employers couldn’t find me and (conveniently) forgot to take it off. After he left, one of my friends pointed out the piano player and shortly after, said pianist got me a drink.

I don’t remember everything we talked about, but I do remember that we agreed that fried pickle spears are much better than pickle chips and we ended the night in the parking lot where I argued that college football is much more entertaining than NFL. I still didn’t give him my number when he asked for it, but I made sure he was able to find me.

It was a fun night, but I had my reasons to not move forward. He wasn’t my type, I was fresh out of breaking an engagement, and I was certain my parents wouldn’t be thrilled about me being with a musician (which I correctly guessed). But on the drive back home, Justin Timberlake’s “Not a Bad Thing” played on the radio and it made me pause. Clearly my “type” of engineers and businessmen wasn’t working out for me, so maybe I should be with someone different. It really wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I also couldn’t help but remember that when I was in Tel Aviv earlier that year, my favorite coffee shop had a mural that said, “I wanna date a musician!” Maybe it was a sign?

So the next day I sent him a bulleted message. I figured: if he didn’t feel the same, then it was platonic and business-like, but if he did feel the same, then it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t make it to Willy Wonka, but he certainly charmed me at Adelbert’s.

We then spent many nights outside of my comfort zone: going out late, seeing bands I’d never heard of, etc. but there was something about him that was worth the drive from Round Rock to downtown Austin plus parking. I swear I did everything to scare him off, talked about my exes and other failures in my life, etc. but nope. He’d ask when he could see me next.

He tried to kiss me twice during our first real date, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I had just broken another guy’s heart, so I wanted to be careful with the next person. I could tell he was confused, so I had to figure out my next move during the drive back. Did I want to be with him or not?

Did I think he could make me happy?
Did I think I could make him happy?

I did.

So I kissed him.