My father proposed to my mother the day they met. They were at a wedding reception; he was a friend of the groom, she was a friend of the bride.
She dismissed him as being improper. And rude. And presumptive.
Later that night, he asked to borrow fifty cents. That didn't help her opinion of him but, as equal parts amused and exasperated as she was, she opened her pocketbook to retrieve the coins and gave them to him.
Under the guise of paying her back the money he owed her, a week later he convinced her to go on a date with him. When he showed up late, she refused to see him.
Three months later, after refusing him again and again, his persistence wore her down and she finally agreed to go on out with him.
You can bet he was on time that night.
They both were on time for their wedding, 60 years ago today.
Somewhere up there, those two celebrate their 60th anniversary. At around 5:00 p.m. this evening, if you tilt your head just so, I expect you'll be able to hear their glasses clinking in a toast to one another.