Seattle Dating Scene features readers’ thoughts and stories about what it’s like to date in Seattle. For our next feature, follow this prompt:

Trying to settle an argument with your significant other? Need some guidance on where to have a socially distanced date or need any other advice? Send in your questions to be answered by our columnist Marina Resto, who runs the lively @Dating_in_Seattle Instagram account.

Please email your submissions to or submit them via Instagram direct message to @dating_in_seattle, and they may be published in a future edition of The Mix.


How We Met

We asked readers to submit stories about how they met their significant others. Here are some of your success stories! 

Answers have been edited for spelling and clarity.

Wes and Joanie

“It was a Sunday in April 1987; the singles class at the church had just started discussion when the classroom door opened, and a tall, attractive woman entered, partially shielding her face with her red raincoat. She said, ‘I didn’t want anyone to see me coming in here.’ I thought, ‘That’s strange!’ She became a regular attendee of the singles class.

Over the next several months, she and I had fairly frequent phone conversations, and we soon found out that we had a lot in common. Our first date was on Sept. 4. We had dinner and then saw the French film ‘Jean de Florette’ at the Guild 45th Theatre.


Fast-forward to Thanksgiving Day 1988. We were on the Amtrak Pioneer — which was stopped at the station in The Dalles, Oregon — when we officially became engaged. We got married in July 1989, and this July we celebrated our 32nd anniversary.”


Jan and Brian

“When a business associate of my sister’s was visiting friends in town, she asked my now-husband to call me after getting my permission. Her tastes and mine were usually night and day, so I assumed total disaster, but maybe a funny story to tell.  Weeks later he called, and we arranged to meet at a restaurant that weekend.

I had never been on a blind date, had been unlucky in love and had thrown in the towel on dating several years before. He was traumatized by bad relationships and had been fending off his friend’s attempts to matchmake during his visit. But he’d promised to call, I’d agreed and we’d arranged for this epic fail that would be hilarious in the future.

Two nights before our blind date, he called to reschedule as his friends had made plans for him that weekend without his knowledge. He could still manage a date before he left town if I could meet the following Monday night. Our conversation (and thoughts) went like this:

Me: You’re really pushing your luck, bucko.

Him: *Silence.* (What have I gotten myself into.)

Me: Joking. Sure, I’ll meet you Monday. (Wow, zero sense of humor.)

Him: Great. (Help.)

Expecting the worst, I was shocked by the person waiting in the lobby. Not a dorky, humorless stiff of a guy, but a tall, handsome and nice guy — also expecting the worst and humorously fielding snide remarks from restaurant patrons correctly grasping his blind date situation. 


By the end of our thoroughly enjoyable evening, we were laughing about the painful brain freeze I got from nervously sucking down my frozen margarita and the ribbing he took in the lobby. He realized I wasn’t an angry woman itching for a fight, and I understood he had a great sense of humor and enjoyed a good-natured poke in the eye as much as I did. 

There seemed nothing left to do but say our good nights and goodbyes. He was leaving in three days to drive to his home 1,300 miles away. I surprised both of us by asking for a second date, and we agreed to have dinner again before he left. At the second dinner, he told me he had changed his plans and would stay in town a while longer to get to know me better! We spent two happy weeks together sharing stories, cooking meals, hiking, laughing and loving. 

The day he left, I despaired of ever seeing him again. It was all too good to be true.  His last words were, “Don’t worry. I will send you a plane ticket or come and get you in six weeks or less.” I wished I could believe it. Later that day, a beautiful flower arrangement arrived at my office with a card that just said, “Six weeks or less.”

In January, we celebrated the 30-year anniversary of our blind date, and this September, our 30 years of marriage.”