Break-ups are rarely regarded as a baby step towards marriage. Yet, in my parents’ case it was. They met when they were 21 at a bar on the Upper East Side called “Spanky's,” and one week later, my Mom was picking up my Dad (who had his license suspended at the time) from his childhood home on Long Island. Needless to say, the timing wasn’t great—they broke up about four months after that.
My parents see-sawed like this for about a decade. They’d get back together for a few months, only to break up at Stardust diner (I can’t make this stuff up). It wasn’t until they reached the ripe old age of 28 that they finally tied the knot. And by now, you’re probably wondering, what was the point? Why go through the sad songs, bad haircuts and sh*tty first dates with people you know you’re not meant to be with?
Since my Dad is a Wall Street bro—and in New York, time is money—the answer can be traced back to a term I’ve plucked from the finance world: He was a “soonicorn.”