The date was June 1, 2019, and I was in New York City for the Veuve Clicquot Polo Classic. Having secured early access to the event, I arrived at the park around 11:00AM so that I could take in the experience before the hundreds of other guests arrived. I had anticipated this event for quite some time and had put a great deal of time and attention into my outfit for the day. Attendees typically pull out their cleanest, most polished, and ornate ensembles. Not to be outdone, I followed suit. With my navy double-breasted blazer with gold buttons, orange tie, and white slacks, I was confident that I’d turn heads and capture some amazing photos. I succeeded, but not in the way I envisioned. You see, the grounds were still wet, mushy, and muddy from a prior day’s rainfall. And shortly after my early arrival to the event, despite exercising the utmost care and caution, I managed to get mud all over my white pants. That’s right, this picture is taken from the knee up, because from the knee down, it was a crime scene. Undeterred, I still took in the full day, enjoying the champagne, the festivities, and running into friends, old and new. Having arrived early, walked the full expanse of the massive park multiple times in a regrettable pair of hard-bottomed shoes, and depleted every last one of my drink tickets, I decided to head back to Harlem, where I was staying with my best friend, Nich. As I waited on the sidewalk alone for my Uber to arrive, I heard the voice of a stranger behind me exclaim, “Damn, the mud got you, huh, friend?” It was obvious that this stranger’s words were directed at me. Having consumed at least a bottle of champagne on my own, I slowly turned around with every intention of staring this stranger up and down and retorting with a roast of my own. I did manage to stare him up and down, but the stranger’s smile completely disarmed me. This stranger was Keõne. After introductions, sharing a few laughs, and after this emboldened stranger took my phone from my hand and placed his number inside, the rest was history. The next year forged the best friendship I’ve ever had. The years since have forged a love that I never could have imagined. Though we met in New York City while Keõne was living in Washington, DC, we are now proud to call Atlanta our home.

So there I was, minding my business and enjoying the company of my friends at the Veuve Clicquot Polo Classic held in Liberty Park, New Jersey on the warm sunny day of June 1, 2019. I was the last of the stragglers of my group of friends to leave and heading to the Uber/Lyft ride share pickup location. To my left, I see this handsome light skinned fella in the blue double-breasted blazer and white pants. Being the extroverted social person that I am, I was propelled to go over to “Holla” at this brotha. He had little mud marks on his pants, which I used as a pickup line saying something like, “The mud got you didn’t it?”, as I approached from behind. He turned around and his eyes were stuck, staring at all this strawberry peanut butter chocolate in this salmon colored blazer. We exchanged a delightful conversation and exchanged numbers. I have an accent in my name, and I wanted to make sure he knew how to pronounce and spell my name correctly. So, I snatched his phone and entered my name myself, to show slight dominance with care lol. Unfortunately, we didn’t see each other for the remainder of that trip in New York, but we stayed in contact every day since. He came to visit me in DC a few months later and I showed him the world of Keõne. What I like to do, my favorite spots, and my badge, what I “really” do for work. Overtime, we grew a great friendship. He always made time for my phone calls and texts. Every phone call was filled with depth and laughter. He became my best friend. I found him to be someone I could trust, feel safe with, make me laugh, and be myself with. I’m social, but cautious of who I allow close to me and to befriend. With Tony, it was with ease, with grace, and no worries. We decided to take our friendship to the next level. Our first trip challenge was his birthday trip to Mexico of 2020. I really miss those empty middle seat restrictions with Delta, but I digress. Our trip was originally set for the Bahamas, and due to last minute changes, he decided to change the trip to Mexico the night before departure. I had to let him know, baaaaabe, I can do it all too, say less! While there, we enjoyed similar things, and from there, only airports and planes kept us apart. Since then, we have traveled so much together and began envisioning and setting the foundational bricks of our future. And here we are today—he convinced me to pack my life up, leave what I’ve built for 14 years in DC, and to start a new life in my hometown in Atlanta, Georgia and to share his last name.