One time, in the Fall of 2009, I told my friend who was living in DC that there was a girl down there I thought he should meet. I couldn't really tell you why I just sort of knew they'd hit it off. I guess I assumed anyone who went to an Ivy League school then moved down to our nation's capital likely had at least a little in common.
This girl I told my friend about, I had technically been friends with from the time we were two and talking exceptionally well at an exceptionally young age (ask our mothers - they will regale you with tales of our genius). Really though, since she'd moved with her family to the middle of the country when we were all of four, we'd spent all of maybe 5 or 6 days time together, and we'd been in touch primarily as pen pals.
That first time didn't work for the friend. He was busy. And then another time when I told him he should reach out to her it didn't work out either. Because he'd started seeing someone he thought he really liked. So a third time, after the girl he thought he'd really liked had left the capital/him, I gave it one last try.
And this time next week, I'll be driving to VT for their quintessentially New England fall themed wedding.
Not bad, eh?