It’s not that common for a snowstorm to hit New Mexico in the springtime, or maybe it is, but for this story I am going to say that it isn’t.

About four weeks ago, my friend Whitney and I set out on a cross-country adventure from here to Chicago. Her being the planner of the trip and me being the one who didn’t even really know what sates we were going to go through to get there, made an interesting and pretty much perfect driving couple. She was responsible for all the driving and directions and I was responsible for looking on the bright side of things when needed. Let’s just say that when you are driving cross-country with a jam-packed Subaru and a cat on your lap and an unexpected storm hits the road, looking at the bright side of things is as worthy as a tank of gas.

So here we were about 40 miles from the Texas boarder and we were getting pulled off the road for the third time. However, this time it didn’t appear that they were going to let us back on. “How long before they open the roads up?” Whitney asked the police officer, in which he informed her that it would be at least until the next morning and that we should hurry up and get a room in town while there were rooms left. “This is ridiculous,” was her response, as if he had control over the weather. This was my cue. “Hey girl, lets just find a hotel and the nearest bar and make the best of it.”

About 15 minutes later we were checking into our room at the Quality Inn. The sign on the wall of the lobby let us know that we were in the town of Tucumcari. Another sign on the lobby wall let us know that there was a bar available to us, which opened at 5 p.m. At the point of check in I was offering up every positive spin I could to the situation. “Everything happens for a reason,” I told Whitney. “Let’s just get something to eat and go to the little bar and see what happens; it will be an adventure.”

About an hour later after changing out of our sweatpants and Ugg boots we were down in the lobby counting the minutes until five o’clock. That is when I first noticed Scott. He was sitting on a small couch in the lobby among the truckers and travelers also milling in the lobby waiting for the magic hour. Needing a better look, I walked across the room crossing in front of him, to get a Styrofoam cup of coffee. On my way back, with Folgers in hand, I took it one step further and talked to him. In our brief exchange he informed me that he too would be paying a visit to the hotel bar when it opened.

About 10 minutes later, he and his buddy along with Whitney and I were the first four travelers to belly-up to the small bar. For the first 30 minutes of conversation I didn’t even know Scott’s name but I knew that I didn’t want us to stop talking anytime soon, if ever.

With the roads still closed the next day, Whitney and I decided to caravan with Scott and his traveling buddy Mick, who had mapped out an alternate route. However because he was heading to Buffalo and we were stopping in Chicago, we ended up saying our goodbyes at an Arby’s somewhere in Oklahoma.

If I had enough space in the paper I would write exactly how I feel about Scott and I how every time he calls I smile or when he sends me cute text messages I wish I could crawl through the phone and be next to him, but instead of boring you with the details, I’ll just say that although springtime snowstorms might cause closed roads and chaos, But sometimes, if your lucky, finding the positive side of things can be as easy as walking across the room and pouring a cup coffee into a Styrofoam cup.