Chelsea and I met at my favorite dive bar, the kind of place where the smell of stale beer and tater tots punches you in the face as soon as you walk in.  We’d been texting and Facebooking for weeks before we finally agreed to meet in person, and we both had a blind-date exit strategy just in case the evening didn’t go as planned.

This isn’t a typical love story: This is the story of my first lady date.

Nora (l.) and the girls

Through each phase of my life I’ve had a fantastic group of girlfriends, whether it’s my army of cousins, the girls I met during my awkward phase in grade school, the college roommates who taught me to funnel a beer in a Cincinnati basement or the amazing girls in New York City who helped me figure out who the heck I am.  When I moved back to my hometown of Minneapolis, I found myself in an altogether different phase, one where I kind-of-sort-of didn’t really have any friends who didn’t share my DNA.

While I lacked a brunch buddy, I did have a lovingly meddling mother who took it upon herself to be my social coordinator.  Chelsea was hand-picked as the ideal girl for me, and three months later, it’s clear why. 

That first night, one beer turned into two pitchers, a plate of nachos, and a full run-down of our romantic histories.  Since then, we’ve figured out that we’re the perfect balance for each other. 

Nora & Chelsea

I’m tall and Chelsea is normal-sized. I’m blonde and she’s a brunette. I’m loud and she’s thoughtful.  I’m impulsive and she’s deliberate.  I make jokes and she laughs at them. I think in words and she thinks in pictures. She makes things and I think they’re amazing. I write things and she says she likes them.

The best part (besides having someone who still likes to have sleepovers) is that our union has grown into a full-on circle of friends, and brunch is back on.

How did you meet your new BFF?

by Nora McInerny