Welcome back, dear readers—I'm so happy to meet you here at the beginning of the real, tangible start down the road that will (I promise) lead to the exciting nuptials for which you are invited this June.
A quick note about my delayed article and my absence from this site at the beginning of March:
To explain—as a highly in-demand writer—I had other assignments for publications that pay significantly better than joeyandmacy.com. I adore these two lovebirds, but the color green ultimately decides where and when I wet my pen. And, although I can’t divulge what I was writing about or for whom, I can say it’s a big deal. You’d be impressed if you were to learn the details.
So, apologies to anyone who acutely felt the month-long delay between posts.
But I digress...
If you did not read the Part One of this series (see full works here), we left our two star-crossed lovers on the banks of the mighty Colorado River having briefly met for the first time.
To get the full story of this all-important next step in their relationship, I continued my one-on-one interviews with both parties.
While their recollections of that first meeting in Moab fit together satisfyingly—like two puzzle pieces snapping into place—things diverged a bit when we moved on to the next stage. The picture got a little fuzzier.
“Joey was slow to take a hint,” says Macy, taking a pretty expressive sip of her cappuccino as she explains how their meeting on Halloween eventually resulted in an anniversary date of June 28th.
“I thought Macy liked me as, like, a friend,” confesses Joey when I ask him, displaying the lack of situational awareness often exhibited by males at this stage in the courtship dance.
Now then, a bit of background—to set the board, so to speak, and make sense of the moves that follow:
At this particular juncture, Joey—having just spent several years in Boulder—joined the common migratory pattern of young Colorado professionals and relocated to Denver. He settles into a charming apartment in the Jefferson Park neighborhood, in the northwest corner of the city.
At this same time (though not, notably, on purpose), Macy also establishes residence in Jefferson Park. Her place: a two-bedroom home, tucked a few blocks off Federal Avenue, with a stairway up to a front lawn off of a tree lined street.
Independently, and without coordination, they discover a small café called Sapor.
It would become, for both of them, a preferred spot for remote work, casual conversation, and excellent lattes.
And there, in these separate yet almost-overlapping orbits, they might have remained—close, but not quite touching—were it not for a mutual friend, Sean Curran. A man with a good sense for symmetry, Sean realized he was making separate visits to the same neighborhood to see two different friends.
Now, with your feet firmly planted beneath you, we return to the narrative.
“Sean hit me up on a Friday asking if I remembered his friend Macy from our Moab trip,” recalls Joey, taking a sip of his now half finished Sit’N Rock Ale. “He said she was having a little party at her place and asked if I wanted to come hang. That she’d moved a few blocks from my spot and that we should be friends.”
“Joey walks into my place ready for a party,” Macy says. “I’m not sure what Sean told him, but he brought enough snacks and beer in this grocery bag for, like, ten people. Which was funny because it was just me and Sean watching some movie on TBS. Not a party vibe at all—Sean was crashing in my extra room because we had to wake up at 5 a.m. the next day to meet up with friends to beat the traffic up to Vail.”
What seems obvious, is obvious, is that Sean had matchmaking on the brain.
I reached out to him via text to confirm.
Over the following weeks and months, things started to build—slowly. There were chance run-ins at the grocery store. Casual hellos at Sapor. Glances turned into conversations:
→ "Hi, you’re Sean’s friend"
→ “Is this seat taken?”
→ “I grabbed you a coffee—how did that meeting go the other day?”
“We were becoming pretty familiar with each other at that time, but it all lived in public spaces and at friends’ parties—mainly inside that coffee shop. He hadn’t invited me on anything close to a date,” Macy says.
“I was really excited to have made a friend in my new neighborhood,” Joey explains. “And although I was interested, I didn’t want to ruin a friendship with a neighbor and someone close with my buddy Sean. When she asked if I wanted to go see Saves the Day [1] at the Marquis Theater, I figured it was because she knew I also loved early 2000s pop-punk bands and was having a hard time finding anyone else to go.”
“It was obviously a date,” Macy says. “I could’ve gotten any number of friends to go with me to that show. Saves the Day is awesome.”
Reminiscent of Rick James contradicting himself about whether he ruined Eddie Murphy’s couch, Joey said when asked:
“I don’t want to get into who asked who out first here… Macy asked me out first. 100%.”
He continues:
“Macy did such a great job. That show was awesome. The Marquis is this small venue downtown that only fits around 400 people. To get in, you actually walk through a little pizza shop—one of my favorite places to see music in Denver.”
During the show, it slowly dawned on Joey that this might be a first date. Eager to impress, he did the two things that most often score points at punk shows:
- Bought cheap beer for his date.
- Dove into the fray.
“The outing was going pretty well,” Macy recalls. “The show was fun, and it was nice to get Joey out of the coffee shop setting and get to know him a bit more. I think I was actually able to see when he realized we were on a date—something in his expression changed a little. About five minutes after that moment, he handed me his PBR tall boy and said, ‘Hold this,’ before diving into the mosh pit.”
For those not lucky enough to have gone to a punk show, a bit more table-setting is needed:
At more energetic shows, a “mosh pit” [1,2] sometimes forms at the front of the house near the stage. Here, the most rambunctious concert-goers violently hurl themselves at one another in a fashion that can only be generously described as “dancing.”
“It’s more of a violent release of pent-up energy,” Joey says. “Calling it dancing is kind of a misnomer. If you see a pit forming, it’s best to move to the back of the venue and let it run its course.”
Photos Joey snapped from Inside the 'mosh pit'
“So Joey’s gone for about half a song,” Macy says, “before he emerges from the crowd in front of the stage. He’s slightly limping but pretending he isn’t.”
“I’d been in the pit for about a minute—ducking stage divers and trying to hold my own—when some kid gave me a huge shove and my knee went sideways into a speaker,” Joey says. “I genuinely thought I’d re-torn my ACL. I spent the rest of the night—again, now knowing I’m on a date—trying to hide that fact from Macy.”
“He was limping pretty bad leaving that show,” Macy says with a smile. “But I had a nice time.”
Addendum A: Meeting Timmy
As any good reporter would, I did some background research on the couple to flesh out the characters in this piece. One person familiar with Macy and Joey’s earliest days whom I spoke with was Joey’s younger brother, Timmy.
Interestingly, he recalls warning Macy not to pursue the relationship—because she seemed “really great” and “like a totally sweet and normal person.”
“Listen, I tried really hard when they first started dating to make sure Macy was aware of what she was getting herself into,” says Timmy, Macy’s future brother-in-law.
“Turns out she might be just as weird as my brother, because my warnings about all his shortcomings fell on deaf ears. It’s crazy to contemplate, but I think she genuinely loves him.”
After a long pause—where I could almost hear him thinking—he followed simply with:
“Insanity.”
And readers, what is love if not that—two people touched by the same insane thought: that they want to spend the rest of their lives in each other’s company.
That’s all for now, dear readers.
Next month, we’ll be diving headfirst into the heart of Macy and Joey’s early days—where things start to get real, feelings start to take root, and Joey finally makes a move. Buckle up. You’re going to want the popcorn.
In the meantime, don’t forget to check out the Complete Works to catch up on any parts you missed or revisit your favorite moments. And remember: this entire series will be available in print—in a limited edition release—at the wedding this June.
Until next month,
— Nora Factchecker 🖊️
