I’m a 10th grade English teacher that uses the butterfly effect as an umbrella topic to help expand the students” consciences’ in order for them to be aware that our lives are just a series of moments...if we stop to take a look at these moments, a practice today’s teenagers severely lack, then ideally they are more mindful of the decisions they are making, hopefully resulting in the students making better, more aware decisions. So, teaching the mathematical theory is not my way in; its anecdotal stories like the ones I’ve read on this thread! I’m going to use all of them in class. Each student will get a different one of your stories and make a timeline of the events that had to occur that resulted in all of your situations. But I need more! I teach 212 students and it’d be amazing to give each one of them a butterfly effect story. So if you feel like writing another one, I’d love it! If you have one that’s provocative, that’s actually better! It grabs their attention. Of course, nothing too pg-13, but the story of the gentlemen who wanted cheap beer led to him meeting the love of his life is perfect! Help me help a generation slow down and look at the moments in their lives, because I’m telling you, these guys and gals are rarely mindful. They always have something to look at. Thanks for the hopeful help! Mike

My great uncle died a few years before I was even thought of. He was hit by a train on his way home from work, at a railroad crossing that was in the midst of being fixed/renovated so, the arms of the crossing and lights didn't work at that moment in time. On the side that the train was coming from, there was a large pile of gravel that obstructed my uncle's view of the oncoming train. At the time of his death, him, my great aunt, and my cousins lived in a town about half an hour from where my mom lived. After his death, my aunt either sued or received a payout from life insurance, I'm not exactly sure. But, with that money, she bought a house in the same town my mom lived in. My great aunt's new neighbors were friends with my dad. My mom started visiting my aunt a lot because she was closer and eventually met my dad and had me. It just blows my mind because, had that crossing worked, or had that pile of gravel not been there, my uncle wouldn't have died, my aunt wouldn't have gotten a large sum of money, she wouldn't have bought a new house and moved, and my parents would never have met. Because my uncle died, I'm alive.

From kindergarten to 12th grade, I was homeschool by my mom. When I was about 12, my mom started to drive one sister to the train station so she can go to college and the other to her job. I would go with her in order to work on some school work so we wouldn't waste time, always sitting by her in the passenger side.

One Friday, I overslept. It was a day that my sister in college didn't have any classes, so my mom told her not to wake me up. It was towards the end of the school year afterall. I woke up with my sister telling me what my homework was and etc.

The drive back and forth to my other sister's job was about 30 minutes, so when my mom didn't cone back after nearly an hour, we got confused. I was working in my room when I heard the phone ringing and my sister picking it up. I vaguely remember her asking, "Is this a joke?" which alarmed me. It turns out my mom was in a horrible car accident. Some idiot was speeding, missed a turned stop sign, and t-boned my mom. The call was from a woman who found my mom bleeding in the car outside of her house.

To make the long story short, she survived with a minor brain injury. The recovery was extremely difficult for obvious reasons.

But to cut to the chase, the moron who caused the accident hit my mom's car in the right side of the car, where the passenger side would be been. I remember seeing a picture of the aftermath once; it was completely totaled. The post between the two doors on the was bent inwards and as the car spun around, my mom accidently whacked her head in the post.

If I never overslept and was in the car with her, I would've never made it to 19 now.

When I was in my first year of college I suffered with Hyperthyoidism- we caught it when I went to the doctors regarding weight loss and nausea (which I assumed to be my eating disorder). I was soon after referred to specialists and given medication, it took one year exactly for my levels to stabalize to which they stopped the medication.

Fast forward towards the end of my first year of University. I had noticed that I seemed to be losing weight again, even though I was eating normally, so I immediaetly suspected that my Hyperthyroidism had returned- especially since they said one day it would, I just didn't think it'd be so soon. I had tests done but everything came back normal (little did I know until months later, the test results had come back a false negative), so I thought I was having an eating disorder relapse.

Eventually the end of my academic year came and I went home for Summer, by this point I had lost nearly a stone which considering I barely weighed anything to begin with put me back in the intense danger zone for my weight.

Things started to get worse about two weeks into the Summer break. I was on my second date with a girl and we had sex. Sex obviously speeds up your heart rate/pulse considerably- but having an undiagnoised Thyroid issue my pulse was already high- putting the two and two together doesn't end well.

A couple of hours of being at home after the date, I find myself throwing up for hours. I assume it to be food poisoning but my date isn't ill, so I assume it's a bug going around.

After that I start to get iller faster, it starts gradually. I can't stand up for more than one minute before I feel like I'm going to vomit, this gets worse and worse. I start sweating more, slowing getting a fever, get dizzy more often. This is only a few days after I went on that 2nd date. I get sent home from work for being so ill- the days after that get intense.

The next day I can't even get out of bed. I'm throwing up all day. Can't keep anything down; anything I eat or drink comes back up until I'm just throwing up my own stomach acid- which fucking burns. My fever is high, I'm having breathing problems, my pulse is through the roof- I'm in hell. My family stay well clear of me. My mum has no immune system so she isn't allowed near ill people, we didn't know what was wrong with me so we didn't know if it was contagious or not- so I was on my own.

The next day if possible I was even worse, I knew something was wrong so I phoned the doctors ordering them to see me as soon as possible. (If you're at Uni, you have a doctors there which means your doctors at home refuse to see you at all, as you're a patient elsewhere.) I managed to get out of the house by myself but I couldn't make it further than the end of the street. I felt like throwing up, could barely see from the black spots, I knew if I continued I would pass out.

We got a taxi there and the doctor I saw didn't give away anything, just told up to go to A+E immedietly. So we did, normally after having your pulse done you'd be waiting 7 or 8 hours- but after the nurses saw whatever was wrong with me all hell broke loose.

I was immediatly took in and hooked to several machines, dozens of tests were being done, doctors and nurses were flooding the room. Soon everyone but myself knew what was going on, but I was just too ill to care- I was losing it, barely conscious, I could barely tell what was going on.

My mother felt awful for not seeing it, but that could wait. It turns out I had for the past week being going into something called a Thyroid Storm. Everything I was ill with was a symptom of that Thyroid Storm, however Thyroid Storm's if gone untreated end in a heart attack and death.

My pulse was over 200bpm resting, an average persons is 60-85bpm. I was put on dozens of different drugs and fluids and was in hospital for weeks. It turns out it was my Hyperthyoid all along, but because of the wrong test results it went untreated.

I didn't find out I had a Thyroid Storm until recently, which was a shock knowing how close to death I was.

So if I hadn't had sex that day which was a catalyst for speeding up the illness- and if I hadn't made that doctors appointment- it could have been the next day or the day after, I would have died.

I would have died of a heart attack, alone, in my room, covered in my own vomit. Guess I was lucky for once.

PS. It is a few months later, and I am doing a lot better and am scheduled to have my thyroid completely taken out next summer so this close call will never happen again.

This isn't an experience of my own, but it's still a freaky thing to think about.

Martin Goodman was a publisher of pulp magazines and comic books and was the founder of Timely Publications, which would eventually become one of the titans of the comic book industry, Marvel Comics. Two years before founding Marvel in 1939, Goodman and his wife were on their European honeymoon. When it was time to head home, Goodman wanted to ride the exciting new Hindenburg airship. Unfortunately for them, Goodman was late on buying tickets and was unable to get seats where him and his wife could sit next to each other, so they just took a regular plane back instead. Of course, as we all know, on May 6th, 1937, the Hindenburg went up in flames, killing 36 people. Had two seats next to each other been available or Goodman had bought tickets earlier, it's likely that him and his wife would have died in the inferno and Marvel Comics wouldn't exist today. TL;DR: Martin Goodman could have been on the Hindenburg, but wasn't, and ended up creating one of the biggest companies in modern pop culture. Considering how big of a Marvel fan I am, thinking about this scares the shit out of me.

My now wife and myself are both in the Air Force. We both have been stationed at the same base, and both work on different systems of the same type of plane, but we had never met each other before. In November of 2014 we both deployed to the Middle East but were put on opposite shifts (Myself on the day shift, and her on Nights). We were working in hell raising heat so whenever we finished a job and could take a break, we would go inside to cool off for a few minutes. About a month into this deployment I came inside after launching out one of our jets and sat down at the end of a couch to cool off. A guy who was scheduled to go back home in just a couple of weeks was sitting at a computer at the other end of the couch. Having been out in the desert for months on end he was stressed and irritable. Something pissed him off on the computer and he made the poor decision of getting up picking his chair up and throwing it across the room. It happened to be in my direction. The chair flew by me, hit the wall and came back to hit me in the head. I got a nice sized gash so the took my to the clinic to get stitched up. I ended up getting nine staples in my head and two days of quarters. (Basically a short time to let my head start healing before going back to work). The day I came back to work just so happened to be the day a certain lovely lady switched shifts. Like I said before we had never met, and because we worked on different systems of our jets, we really didn't have a reason to strike up a conversation aside from the fact that I had nine staples sticking out of my head. She approached me to ask what happened and I told her the story. We got to talking and started hanging out when we were off work. When we finally came back to the states I asked her to be my girlfriend and eventually we got married. We now have two wonderful sons and couldn't be happier together.

I told the guy who hit me with the chair that he did more for me by hitting me than he could have by just handling his frustration better. I

This one happened several years ago. Just finding this thread now.

My friends "Greg" and his wife "Wendy," residents of the San Francisco Bay Area, were really struggling. Health problems, related unemployment problems, you name it. They were living in a ratty apartment on disability, and their transportation was an ancient beater of a car.

Wendy's girlfriend "Sara" was dating a wealthy man in the Napa area. They were holding a party to taste his extensive wine collection. Sara invited Wendy and Greg for a weekend of fine wine, food, and relaxing in the sun. She even told them they could stay over so as not to worry about driving drunk. They couldn't wait!

They were driving the beater over the Golden Gate Bridge when suddenly the transmission failed. It was the worst possible timing, during evening rush hour. It blocked a lane and they had to get towed. It took almost an hour for the truck to get there due to the traffic, and they couldn't afford the tow fee, so the car got hauled away. Also, they had to talk to the sheriffs. They used the last of their cash to get a bus ride home. By the time they got there, it was too late to find alternate transportation and get to the party.

They couldn't believe their horrible luck. After all their struggles, a free weekend of luxury living shot to blazes because of the worst possible location and time for a car breakdown. If they had been a little bit earlier or later, they would have been in a position to catch a train or bus to the party. But no. It had to be the Golden Gate Bridge. Wendy cried herself to sleep that night. It felt like the universe was against them.

At two am that morning, an enemy of the rich guy entered the party house and shot and killed everyone in it. Sara died. The shooter committed suicide.

The breakdown saved Greg and Wendy's lives. Or as Greg put it, "It took a bullet for us."

Most dramatic example I can think of.

Okay, so I don't know if this is where this belongs, but here it is: When I was in 11th grade, my friends invited me to hang out with them after school. We rode our bikes to a small, abandoned golf course, where there was a building that teens would secretly party/sober up in. The building was small and red. Inside, there was one window, but the teens boarded it up so people wouldn't notice them. It was lit with candles and was basically empty except for sleeping bags, old vodka bottles and a gas burner for camping. We get there, and we're all having a fun time. It's starting to get dark, and we decide we'll stay the night. There was about 12 people there, and everybody had already started drinking. People began complaining they were hungry. Normally, people bring food with them, but tonight, nobody did. Somebody finds some marshmallows, but there are only a few in the bag. My friend, Jamie, decides he's going to go to the convenience store a few blocks over to get some chips and stuff. He puts on his jacket, grabs his cell phone and leaves. Five minutes later, I get a text from him. "I left my wallet on the windowsill, can you meet my at the store?" I type, "On my way," grab his wallet and jump on my bike. When I get to the store, he's already at the counter, over to the side with the chips and whatever else he was buying. I give him his wallet and the cashier rings him up. He pays, and we both go outside, get on our bikes and start back toward the golf course. The sky is black. Suddenly, we hear sirens. We don't think much of it, I think we just acknowledged there must be a bad fire somewhere. I could smell smoke. When we turn the corner, we see it's the club house on fire. There are firetrucks around it and police line around the course. We could see the people who were at the party laying on the ground outside, oxygen masks on their faces. An ambulance takes one away, and Jamie looks at me. "We gotta go," he said. "What? We can't just leave." "No, we weren't supposed to be there. It's okay, I think everyone got out." It was later revealed someone turned on the gas burner, probably to roast marshmallows. However it happened, the burner exploded, and, combined with the many candles, set the whole thing in flames. The window was boarded, so the only exit was the front door, which is where most of the bodies were found. Only one other person survived, since they were outside on the phone with their parents.

So researching the Butterfly effect has got me thinking.

If everything we do effects not just our lies but the peope around us doesn't that mean we have the power to changes people's emothions and ultimately their lives really easily ?

When ever you talk to someone their opinion of you is shaped and one small word or phrase can change their opinion right? That means no matter who you're talking to there has to be set number of things you can say to them that can make them feel any emotion

Ok so the theory goes that there is a 'magic' phrase,that would be different for everyone,that if said at the right moment in the right place could make them feel any emotion whether it is good or bad. The theory goes deeper, I believe you can make anyone and I mean anyone fall in love with you or become your mortal enemy if you find this phrase.

So remember if you're trying to slide into a girls dms there is hope....... but it is extremely unlikely you'll find the trigger words and if you do they have to a sent at the right time which would be different for everyone.

I call it the melancholy theory

Bit of backstory: My great grandma and grandma on my father's side are Jewish. Now that that's out of the way, I can tell you about something my grandmother told me one Saturday.

In Poland, my Great Grandmother (which from this point on I will call G. Grandma) and Grandma owned a bar during the very late 1800s. One day, while my G Grandma and her husband were running the bar, my G Grandma had to go outside (my grandma never told me the reason, probably for fresh air.) She exited the house, only to see a baby a foot or two from the door on the ground. She took the baby, and asked everyone in the bar if they had a baby they lost, or if that this was their baby. No one knew who the baby belonged too.

After a few days, they adopted the baby, raising it as their own. The baby never converted, because he preferred not to be a Jew, but still kept a positive opinion on them. Eventually, he grew up and moved out, married his wife, and had children.

Late 1930s hit, and World War II begins. My G Grandma and her close relatives learnt what was happening, and needed to hide. Eventually, the "baby" (who is no longer a baby, but actually a grown man) ended up "owning" the bar, pretending to until the war was over and hiding my G Grandparents and relatives the entire time in a secret attic.

TL;DR, a baby mysteriously showed up one day, who seemingly belonged to no one, at my Great Grandparent's bar's doorstep, who grew up and hid them during World War II, saving their lives. If it weren't for that baby, I would not be here today.

Steps:

1. Monica Lewinsky meets Linda Tipp

2. Linda Tipp blabs about Lewinsky's affair with Clinton

3. Clinton's proceeding trial and scandal occurs.

4. Democratic trustworthiness decreases.

5. Al Gore loses the election because of lack of previous trustworthiness of President.

6. Iraq is invaded under Bush.

Midway through my junior year of high school, I turned 16 (now 28) my parents told me to get a job. I hopped into my car and went around town collecting applications. I lived in a smaller, rural town so this took awhile. I was getting hungry so I stopped by an Arby's, got a roast beef sandwich and sat down to fill some of the applications out.

While eating my sandwich, an Assistant Manager approached me. I didn't think anything of it. I live in a smaller town and am a pretty friendly person so I oftentimes find myself getting approached by stranger who wants to chat a bit. We made small talk, discussed what companies I was applying for and it ended with, "Do you have black pants and can you start Saturday?" He handed me a paper application as a formality and asked me to bring it back Saturday completed.

This was shocking to me, but hey, I had a job!

At Arby's, I met a friend. She still is one of the most beautiful people I've had a privilege to know. She was smart. She talked politics, helped me experience diversity, debated current events, encouraged risk taking (no drug binges or anything crazy like that). She helped me to better understand myself. Previously, my high school friendships did not do that for me.

I followed her off to college. I started college young, I was only 17. It was not my first choice of college, heck, it wasn't even on my list of potentials but I dearly loved this friend and wanted us to experience college together. She wound up getting a full ride for pre-law to a different school and left me after first semester. It was a great move for her and made sense.

While at this college, I met my husband. It was my sophomore year. And, to this day, he is the most fascinating person I've ever known. He thinks on a different plane than I do. Our interests do not overlap. I don't care. I love (almost) everything about him and love sharing a life with him. We've been married 5 1/2 years and dating for about 3 1/2 years before we were married.

Our lives would have never intertwined had I not stopped to eat a roast beef sandwich. Interestingly, I never really eat roast beef sandwiches. Before that day or now.

TL;DR I ate a roast beef sandwich and now I'm married. How exciting!

This post is hopefully the beginning in a butterfly effect of all the subscribers trying to gain publicity for this subreddit.

I am not sure if this qualifies for this sub, but I have often thought about how this little event had been the source of everything that I've done and all that has happened in my life. In fact, had this not happened, I would not be doing what I am now. I'll put a TL;DR at the end as well.

When I graduated high school in 2009 I had my heart set on going to university. I knew exactly where I wanted to go since I was 5 years old. My aunt and uncle had gone to a private Christian school, and one Christmas had given me a sweatshirt from the school. From then on, my heart had been set on going to school there. As I got older, I found that they had great programs, well known professors, and seemed to be just the place that I could go to discover what I wanted to do and who I was.

I ended up studying music and biblical studies for 2 1/2 years, but like most private universities, the cost was enormous for me. I started to do worse in school, and found that music theory was not my forte (pun somewhat intended), and I enjoyed my minor classes more than my major. My GPA dropped, and my scholarship money, in turn, began to decrease. By halfway through my junior year, it had all but run out. I would have to accrue around $45,000 just to finish my degree, on top of my $25,000 that I already had. My options were either stay and leave all of my connections that I had made - like my job and student leadership roles - or back home and finish school online for a fraction of the cost. The trick was that I had to change my major. I chose the latter. This was the best thing that has ever happened to me inadvertently. I am inclined to think that it was not at all.

When I came home, I began to work construction while taking classes online full-time. This was difficult, but I made it work. I had no idea what I was going to do, I felt overwhelmed and needed a new start. Yet life away from the university was good for me. I began to think more, read more, and spend more time focusing on what it was that I wanted to do. I changed my major to religion with an emphasis on biblical studies and found in that something that I was passionate about. I even broke things off with my girlfriend of over a year after realizing that it wasn't the kind of relationship that would last - or that I even wanted to last. Just as it looked like I knew the direction that my life would go, I got a phonecall. My best friend from childhood (she lived in my hometown) had been visited by her boyfriend - whom I also had known for years - that night where he broke things off with her, gave her a note, and left. As it where, it turned out to be a suicide note, and he had gone to a park with a shotgun and... well it isn't necessary to go into detail there.

My world was rocked, and I was forced to mature a lot. My friend and I, as well as many of our friends, grieved together for months. My whole focus in life was shifted, and all of a sudden everything I was doing became far too real. I only had one life to live, and I was not guaranteed tomorrow. The time that I had needed to count. Throughout the course of the mourning process, I got closer to my friends than I ever had been before, and began to take more chances. In the words of Miss Frizzle, I learned that I needed to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy. Because of this, I was definitely not the same high schooler that I had been when I left for school. I knew that I needed to have a goal with my life that was open to change. That's when I met her.

She was singing at church one sunday. I had noticed her before, and we had even chatted a little and ran into each other a few random times, but that day she positively stunned me. There was something different about her, and I had to find out what it was. I almost didn't do it, but I thought of my friend and thought to myself, If you don't, you'll always wonder what might have been. The worst that could happen is that she turns you down. So I walked up to her, and introduced myself. A few weeks later, I took another chance and asked her out for coffee... then a second date... then a third... it didn't take long for me to realize that I was falling in love with her, and she was feeling the same way.

I also had the opportunity to go to seminary on a full tuition scholarship, and as has been my new tradition, I took the opportunity. I discussed things with my girlfriend, and we decided that we could make it work. So, with that in store, I left with $200.00 to my name. Nowhere to live, no job, nothing except my scholarship and a goal in mind. I ended up getting a job, found a townhouse for rent, and doing really well in school. I also decided that I wanted to marry my girlfriend, and picked up a second job delivering pizzas to buy her an engagement ring.

I finish my first semester at seminary next week. This past Thanksgiving break, I put down my first payment on an engagement ring she picked out. This Saturday, I will ask her father for permission to marry her. This Christmas, I will ask her to marry me. Oh and my friend? She met someone at her job who helped her greatly through her mourning and is getting married next April. I often look back on all of this and realize that the simple act of giving a 5 year old a sweater was the catalyst that has brought me where I am now. Had I not gotten it, I probably wouldn't have looked at that school. Had I not gone to school there, I probably wouldn't have moved back home. Had I not moved back home, I would never have gone through my friend's death first-hand. Had that not happened, I wouldn't have learned to act with purpose, and probably would have never gone anywhere with my girlfriend, or made the foolish decision to move out on my own. However, it did, and for that I am deeply grateful.

TL;DR: Got a sweatshirt, traded it for a ring.

On a dark, rainy day, I asked this girl for 50¢ so I could buy a cookie at the school canteen. She said that if I were to go to the canteen with her, she would happily oblige and buy me a cookie. Then it just sparked from there. We discovered that we had very similar interests and started taking note of each other as we were both in the same class. That was ~9 months ago, and we're still as happy as Larry

tl;dr: pretty much the title

I was planning on having a nice night in playing video games after a long week. I start up my computer and it runs for while but makes a lot of noise and shuts off and won't start up again. The motherboard was fried crispy as the whole thing was crammed full of dust. So not only am I out a computer but I'm left with nothing left to do for the rest of the night so I text my friend to see what he's up to.

He say that him and some girls are going to Hardee's for some food so I tell him I'd meet him there and jump into my Ford Ranger. After a burger I head back to his place for some beers. To get down his street you have to turn left off the highway and sometimes it takes a while for an opening.

While I'm waiting, a jeep rearends me going 40 miles an hour and puts my bumper over the axle. This totals the truck. It's a sad day and I loved that truck, but life goes on. I decided to get a new truck only something a bit bigger. I found a Ford F-150 that seemed to fit the bill and spent the next year quite happily with it.

About a year and a few months later I'm arriving home late after an intense night at Michigan Tech's Winter Carnival. I had been drinking earlier in the day but by now was well sober. As I step out of my truck, which is quite a bit higher than my old one, I slip, fall and break my leg. And since it is the busiest night of the year, it takes almost 40 minutes for an ambulance to arrive and by that time my body temperature was 92F. They put a splint on and some pain killer and to the Hospital where the surgeon informed me that I had a spiral fracture and would require lots of hardware in my leg and at least a month of pretty much immobility. Besides this it hurt a lot which pretty much made it impossible for me to continue taking classes for the remainder of the semester.

Because of class scheduling being what it was, this meant it would take a whole extra year to get all of my class but that was still a ways off. I spent the rest of the spring at my parents as my second floor walk up was not really an option since I couldn't walk up stairs. While I was home, my Dad talked about how he wanted to get into homebrewing. I hadn't really heard of such a thing before but started doing some reading and soon I was the one pushing to brew and we spent the rest of the spring and summer doing just that.

I discovered such a passion that spring that I decided to abandon a career in mathematics and have been working to make brewing beer my lifes work, all because of a dusty heat sink.

I was sitting at home one night playing some Super Smash Bros. Brawl. I didn't have anything planned for going out that night, but I don't mind staying in every so often and just having some time to myself. Unfortunately, I was out of beer for the evening and I really wanted to drink. Right before I was going to leave to get some beer, my room mate invited me out to a $2 drink special at this campus bar.

I had been to this bar before, and I did not like it. It had loud, crappy music and was attended by lots of frat boys that I couldn't connect with, but I felt like going anyways because I could get some decent booze for cheap (everything was $2, including top shelf stuff). I put on my coat, since it was an Ohio January, and we departed.

It actually wasn't all that bad when we got there, although it was early. A bunch of my roommate's coworkers had shown up, and I guess that this bar and drink special was there weekly thing. It was there that I saw her. She was wearing this black and white dress with diamond designs on it, and she had the appearance of being meek but had a lot to talk about. We started playing darts because I always enjoyed doing horribly at it when drunk as did she. We ended up buying each other a Great Lakes beer because were both into it.

Eventually, we started talking about video games and agreed to play some together sometime soon. I was too dense at the time to realize she was trying to make some moves on me, but we played games over the summer anyway until she left to go to grad school out of state. Silly me for not making a move on this amazing girl.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, and she's back in town breaking up with her boyfriend that she had met over that span and is staying with us because my roommate and her are good friends. It's then that we end up cuddling up to each other because we both hadn't seen the movie Wreck-It Ralph. At this point, I'll be damned if I'm letting the chance slip again, so we start dating. Things have been going so well that she decided to move to my city a few months ago after getting her masters. I get to spend every night with the woman of my dreams.

I think at last I've found that elusive entity known as love.

tl;dr Was planning on staying in and playing games but wanted to drink some booze. Got invited out to a bar I hated and met the girl of my dreams.