The sun beamed through my front windshield. The rays reminded me I had been stuck in the car long enough to watch the sunrise. 
    The two lane road I was on was more backed up than I had ever seen. I looked ahead, hoping to find the cause of the traffic, but I couldn't see far enough ahead. I may have been less miserable if the broken A.C. in my car wasn’t making me feel like I was stuck in a sauna. 
    Bored, I glanced from side to side. My left arm hung out of the window, and my fingers fiddled with my second cigarette of the day. I always meant to quit. I never do. The small breeze coming in the window was the only thing keeping me from going insane.
    My car idled next to a slick black Cadillac. The car had no imperfections. I was never the type of girl to care about temporary material things like cars and expensive watches, but my curiosity got the best of me. I spied into his window to see what the driver looked like. 
    The driver modeled a button down shirt and a modestly patterned tie. His hair was drenched in gel; his face was smooth and freshly shaven. He caught my eye at that moment, and I knew I was in trouble. My stomach felt queasy as he rolled down his window. I prepared myself to get tormented for my nosiness.  
    "Do you know why we're stuck here?" he asked. I was surprised at his disregard of my staring. Flustered, I just shrugged.
    "What do you say we hop out and grab some coffee?" 
I was taken aback by his abrupt ease and assuming nature, but I dismissed it. 

     "And how are we gonna' do that?" 
     He nodded to the plaza parallel to where our cars had been sitting for so long, practically parked.  
     "What if the traffic finally starts moving?" I finally asked. 
     "You really think that's about to happen?"  
He eagerly got up and out of his car, just leaving it in the middle of the road. I was both intimidated and intrigued by his spontaneity. I hesitantly imitated his actions.We played real-life Frogger, weaving through the idling cars.
     We approached a coffee shop I've I'd never seen before, despite having driven this route every morning for the past two years. A welcoming bell chimed when he opened the door for me. I was impressed by this minor chivalric gesture. He walked straight up to the register and ordered a black coffee. He looked over at me and raised his eyebrows, so instinctively, I ordered my usual.

     "Coffee with cream and sugar, please." He just gave a soft smile and then handed the woman standing behind the counter a ten dollar bill. He mumbled something I didn't catch, and the woman smiled.   
    He started towards a booth on the side of the store right next to a window, so I followed. He made it to the table first, and I sat down across from him.
    "You didn't have to pay for my coffee."
    "I don't have to do anything." I think he saw the surprise in my face, because he quickly tried to explain himself, "I didn't have to visit my grandmother last night and wake up early only to get stuck in this traffic. I wanted to. I didn’t have to get out of my car and get coffee with a stranger. I wanted to."  
My face flushed. 
     He chuckled, then changed the subject. "Do you live around here?"
     "Yes," I said. "I'm only about 12 minutes away from my house."  
    At the mention of the time, we both glanced out the window. 
    "Oh, s***."  We simultaneously realized the traffic had started moving. People were honking, and you could see their rage at the two roadblocks we had left. 
     In a panic, we both jumped up and raced towards our cars. I got to my beat-up van first. He caught up to me and blocked the entrance of my car with his body. He then opened the door for me, handed me a napkin, and smiled.
    "Nice to meet you." And with that, he was in his car and driving away.
     I waited to read his note until the next red light. I delicately smoothed out the crumpled napkin and smiled at the smudged ink printed in messy handwriting.  
    "I hope I come across you again sometime. Take care."  There were ten digits scribbled in the corner of the note. 
When did he write this? I had been sitting with him the whole time.  The rest of my commute was filled with questions about the insanity that I had just participated in. 
    When I got home late that evening, I dialed the numbers from the napkin onto the phone. I was greeted by a familiar voice that made my face flush - just like earlier that day. I got the butterflies in my stomach that every preteen girl boasts about. 
Now, every time I take that road to work, I smile at the coffee shop. Who would have known escaping traffic to go in there would be the way I met my husband?