As our ride came to an end, he stepped out of the car with the bravado of a man who just won over the too-cool chick that initially swerved his advances. I still didn't quite know what he looked like, so I watched as he walked around the car and into his destination. We made prolonged eye contact while he flashed one last big, boyish grin. I remember thinking, "Holy shit, he looks like Liam Hemsworth." I volunteer!
"Dude," I said to Alana, "I think I met the love of my life in the Uber over here." I said the line theatrically, fully aware I was pulling the ultimate rom-com trope. She laughed, indulging my premonition, and we began gushing over drinks. It was cute. We were both blissed on cloud nine that night -- me, for this strange meeting; her, because she'd recently gotten back together with her ex who was also a dear friend of mine. We toasted to their newly rekindled relationship, and to the culmination of a bizarre, unanticipated FBI investigation that had prompted our change in plans.