The way we met depends on who does the telling.  

This is Jamie's tale as told to Daniel

(Daniel reserves the right to dispute any facts herein):

It was kismet.  First, my sister and I walked past your grandmother's apartment in Japantown in San Francisco hundreds of times.  Usually to take the bus to Four Barrel, Sightglass or to some shop in Union Square.  And yet we did not meet.

Next, you and I lived in Paris one metro stop away.  You were there "working" as a summer associate at Cleary Gottlieb and I was there "studying" wine at Cordon Bleu.  And yet we did not meet.

A few years later, my mother visited San Francisco and my sister for a trip to the City of Ten Thousand Buddhas north of the bay and I flew out on a whim to join her for a family weekend.  You were there for your cousin Max's wedding in Napa and yet we did not meet in wine country.

But, after that visit with my family, I went to the airport for a redeye back to NYC and, on checking in, I confirmed that I would have a window seat next to an empty middle seat, just as I liked it.  But when I boarded, you were already there, awkwardly putting your bag into my overhead compartment.  I thought you were certainly flying economy and just inappropriately storing your bag in the front.

"Excuse me," I said (rudely).  

"Oh, is this your seat?"  

I nodded silently, rolling my eyes in my head and then I sat down and started the process of going to sleep.  And then, instead of going to the back of the plane, you sat down next to me.  Then I turned to you, with a look of a surprise, and gave you "what-do-you-think-you-are-doing" look.  You didn't even see it, but it was there.

"By the way, I'm Daniel."  

Thinking to myself, who starts a sentence with "by the way," I sighed quietly and tried to go to sleep.

Then I woke up to go to the restroom.  After returning to my seat, you said, "Well, since we both can't sleep, how about we talk instead?"  And, my gosh, you're a talker. 

You told me about your family and showed me a picture of you with your grandmother and sister at Max's wedding.  You showed me your driver's license (with a photo of you at sixteen!), which I thought was a pretty bold move.  You told me about what you do and I could tell you loved your job.  And then you kept talking...

Six sleepless hours later, we FINALLY got off the plane and, as we were walking out on the escalator, you told me you enjoyed talking to me.  "I know," I said (why else would you keep talking for six hours).

"Do you want to share cab ride back to the city?" you asked.
"No, I need to go to the restroom to put my make up on since i am going directly into the office" (unlike you).
"In that case," you said as you put down your luggage and stood up straight, "may I please have your phone number."

Wow, I thought to myself, impressed by your formality.  And then I gave you my number and spent the rest of the day telling my friends to fly JetBlue.