D.C.'s getting its very own Serendipity 3, the New York restaurant known for its frozen hot chocolate and the thoroughly unbearable 2001 film of the same name, starring John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale. Did you totally love that movie? I'm sorry. Anyway, if you did, you can now relive every cloying moment of the meet-cute of two people so foolish that they're meant only for each other, when the restaurant opens this weekend.

Meet a potential paramour while browsing through the Barney's Co-Op in Georgetown. Accidentally try to buy the same sunglasses. Suggest a meetup at Serendipity 3. Eat ice cream together. Both accidentally leave your sunglasses at the restaurant. Realize you are DESTINED TO BE TOGETHER. Go out again that night, to Jazz in the Park. Realize that the freckles on your partner's arm totally match the pattern of our Metro map. Ride Metro together. FATE. Decide that you two are a perfect match, but through a series of superstitious nonsense challenges that last several years, must find out if you should "really, really be together" by making it impossible to find each other. Write your number on a $5 bill. Have your paramour write his/her number inside a copy of Game Change at the Georgetown Barnes and Noble. Agree that you're really meant to be together if you choose the same time to transfer to the red line later that evening. Get caught up in delays on the orange, and then miss your window for TRUE LOVE forever.

Instead of just, y'know, stalking your love online like normal people do, spend the next seven years inspecting copies of Game Change at area bookstores. Meet another person you kinda like enough to settle for. Get engaged. Realize on your wedding day – ceremony at the Willard! – that you'd rather be with your mysterious Serendipity 3 lover instead. On the day of your wedding, spend the morning traipsing through Georgetown, hoping your true love will magically appear next to you. He/she doesn't. Abandon all hope, and go back to your beleaguered soon-to-be spouse, resigned to spend the rest of your life attached to this lamentably ordinary person. Never once accept that you totally bungled a meet-cute seven years ago, and are about to ruin the life someone who probably loves you a lot as a consequence of your action. NO, THIS IS FATE. Decide to drink heavily to get through wedding. Go to Potomac Wines & Spirits on M Street, purchase bottle of Johnny Walker with cash, and drink yourself silly, without realizing that the change you crumpled into your picket includes a $5 – YES, THAT ONE. Notice it, after you're three sheets to the wind. Call the number written on it, and hear your lover's voice on the phone. Ask to meet at Serendipity 3. "Who is this?" he/she asks. "It's me," you say. "Your DESTINY." "Please don't call this number again," says your mysterious lover on the other end of the line. Your future spouse, unbeknown to you, has been listening to the whole conversation. He/she cries, knowing that you have cold feet. The incident is, indeed, the opposite of serendipity. You get married anyway.