Isabelle Rodriguez

"We both knew this was a bad idea before the Elvis impersonator started the ceremony." Fair enough, Vegas marriages conducted by Elvis impersonators are famously doomed to failure. At least you assume so, it's not like you've run the numbers on that. Your marriage to Isabelle lasted an unimpressive three days. It was the rawest, most intense connection you had ever felt. In Vegas for an engineering conference, meeting her at a blackjack table while you both made fun of the card game. The two of you chatted about card counting, "They don't have a problem with counting cards... they have a problem with counting them accurately!" She was sweet and nerdy, wickedly smart, and... hot, you've always told yourself that physical attraction isn't the most important thing in a relationship for you, but damn if she wasn't cute. Things quickly turned from that initial intellectual connection to a raw physical one... that first night you pretty much couldn't keep your hands off each other and then in the nerdiest of all possible ways, you joked, "If we like each other this much when we barely know each other, it's only logical..." Her eyes widened, "My God, it is only logical!" She flashed the old 🖖, squealed the question... "Let's get married!" And then you were off to the nearest all night chapel staffed by Elvis impersonators. "If we're doing this in Vegas, we're getting married by an Elvis!" Along the way you peppered each other with questions in search of a deal breaker. They probably weren't very good questions, you were more that a little drunk at the time. Within three days you knew it was a bad idea when you talked about where to live and you both knew that neither of you were ready for it, especially with how little you actually knew each other. But her number has never left your phone. It was a truly bizarre start to a truly beautiful friendship. Isabelle is a wonderful woman. You send her flowers on your anniversary and chat regularly.