Mitchel's Version:

I had recently returned to my quiet village in England from a work trip. Shortly after getting home, I was convinced to make the 40-minute drive to Cambridge for a night of bar hopping with friends.

Upon arriving at my friend Finn's apartment, I noticed it was completely empty. After calling him multiple times, he finally picked up, and I could immediately tell he was in no state to describe where he was. Thankfully, another friend was with him and told me they were at a house party.

I was given two options: either go to the house, meet them, and head out immediately afterward, or meet them at the house, drink for free, and go out after spending a bit of time there. I left Finn’s apartment and scootered over to the house.

After walking in, I saw many familiar faces from work and briefly met the homeowner. Throughout the night, everyone played drinking games and shared funny stories—most at the expense of the homeowner.

A while into the party, I approached some people I knew and asked, “What’s the situation with the homeowner?” They replied, “She’s single,” and “She’s into officers, so you better move fast.” Upon hearing that—and with the help of a little liquid courage—I did nothing.

Later on, as the group I had met up with said it was time to leave, I figured better late than never. I approached the homeowner.

Being the ever-outgoing and suave guy that we all know, I walked up to her and said, “Hi, I think you're really beautiful and was wondering if I could get your phone number?” Thankfully, Lindsay—the homeowner—gave me her number.

Registry

While your presence is enough of a gift, if you would like to contribute to our honeymoon (Japan!) or Mitchel's ever growing Lego collection, please use the prompts below.