I’ve walked by the Metropolitan Club on the corner of 5th Avenue and 60th Street maybe a hundred times. A few times I paused in front of the unmistakable wrought iron gate and peered in wondering just how beautiful the interior must be. Never did it cross my mind that one day I’d officiate a wedding at this 125-year-old private club.
In the hopes of escaping the boredom of his one-bedroom apartment, Christopher sat alone at the bar of his local New York City pub. Manchester United was playing Arsenal the next day, so he wanted to finish reading up on the latest football news. “Reading about the weather?” said a woman’s voice.