Today I get to share with you the true tale of how the duo behind the brilliance that is Moira Rogers have done more than just write some damn fine books... this is how they met their husbands! -- Rhi
Donna: You say that like it's a bad thing.
Bree: Only when he forgets to take the trash out. Though I suppose it's kind of my fault your husband asked you out on your first date, so we're even.
Donna: You are! If you hadn't given that comic book shop owner my phone number, he wouldn't have passed it on to my shy ex-Marine.
(This is already sounding like an elevator pitch for a rom-com, isn't it?)
Bree: Two Guys, Two Girls and a Comic Book Shop?
Donna: Confessions of Young Dorks in Love?
Bree: It's funny because it's true! You see, the story of our impossible luck in love starts when we joined this gaming group at the local comic book store. Donna joined first, then dragged me into the group after I moved to the area.
Bree: And I thought M2 was cute, but I was too shy to want to date him. Plus I was new to the area and needed to get a job! So Donna got me hired at the Barnes & Noble where she worked, since I'd worked for a Barnes & Noble before and had relevant experience. And then came the moment so bizarre no one would believe it if we wrote it in a book. You see, M1 had won tickets to a concert...what concert was it again, Donna?
Donna: It was some SummerFest thing with a ton of bands no one remembers anymore, like Dexter Freebish. And he was going to ask me to go, but didn't have my number. So said comic shop owner, playing his own brand of Cupid magic, called up the B&N.
Bree: Meanwhile, at Barnes & Noble, I was trucking my way through orientation. In a stunning coincidence any editor would question, the manager heard the phone ring and decided it was time for me to answer my first official call as a B&N Bookseller. It went something like this:
Bree: Barnes & Noble, this is Bree, how can I help you?
Comic Shop Owner: Oh Bree, good, I need your phone number.
Bree: ...excuse me?
C.S.O: Your home number. You live with Donna, right?
C.S.O: Yeah, give me your home number. M1 wants to call her.
At this point, I've lived in the state for only a few weeks. I'm not very good with names, and can't remember for sure what C.S.O's name is and he mumbled M1s name. Also my manager is staring at me as if she's wondering when I forgot how to use words.
Also, I haven't memorized the home number yet.
Bree: Uhh, who needs her number?
C.S.O: M1. He won tickets to a concert on the radio and he's going to ask her out.
I know Donna thinks M1 is cute, so I decide to take a chance. I rattle off Donna's number, he thanks me and hangs up. I'm trying to figure out what the chances are that I just handed Donna's number over to a random pervert, and my manager is pretty sure I'm too drunk to be at work. But it was worth it!
Bree: Which would have been the end of it if Donna hadn't pointed out that he'd been trying to ask me out for a while and I'd been kind of not noticing. So she did a little matchmaking of her own, and by the next year we were both engaged and planning our own HEAs. Dork romantic comedy style.
Donna: Complete with the dramallama RPG groups and the self-referential geek culture T-shirts. And a sci-fi convention or two. Because that's how we roll.
Bree: But never let it be said we weren't incredibly lucky.
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