Our story
Our tale began over a decade ago, on the day before Valentine’s Day (not by design), 13th of February 2012. The year London hosted the Olympics for a third time and Candy Crush Saga was launched. A time when smartphones were only smart enough to send an SMS; before food and sex delivery apps were invented and we walked around with London Tube maps to find our way.
We met the old-fashioned way: at a pub in London drinking an old fashioned. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Masters students, about to embark on our careers.
Shortly thereafter we decided to move in together (mainly as a result of Ricardo being kicked out of his flat due to the aforementioned Olympics rent mark-up in the East End). Our formative relationship years were spent at the Norwegian Church in Bermondsey, Southeast London, where we lived for six years. Here, we were fortunate enough to meet royalty, clergy, and diplomats from all over the world. Unfortunately, we were often in our pyjamas during these startling encounters.
Since then, we have climbed the London property ladder, owned and disowned at least 80 plants, owned a total of zero ferrets or any other pets, travelled together to 58 sovereign countries so far. In December 2021, we set sail (flew) to a new country, chirpy and charming China, in search of the latest state-of-the-art Covid restrictions, quickly embracing Hong Kong expat life.
Your Most Obvious Burning Questions Answered Below
Where did we meet?
In the poshest venue of the cheapest pub chain in London, Wetherspoons, called Knights Templar in Chancery Lane, conveniently situated equidistant to our universities, King’s College London and the London School of Economics (LSE). We all know which school is better, but we’re not here to offend anyone that didn’t attend a top 3 UK university.
Why were we there?
Ricardo was doing a pre-Valentine’s quiz with the LSE Political Economy nerd group.
For Seb, it was his regular piss-up in a pub to meet his kool kidz King’s friends, which took place on Mondays to ensure everyone came to the 10am lecture (which Seb never showed up to).
Who made the first, second and third move?
Seb.
Who bought the first drink?
Ricardo.
How did we actually meet?
Here our recollections diverge. If interested, please request your desired version of the story during the events.
Which words were exchanged?
Seb: *pretend British accent* “Pardon me to be blunt, but are you single?”
Ricardo: *rolls eyes in Spanish* “erm…”
Seb: “Would you like to have a coffee one day?” (Seb didn’t even drink coffee then but thought it polite)
Ricardo: *gasps in disbelief* “If you are going to invite me out, at least offer a beer or something”
What happened then?
Ricardo bought Seb a beer. We talked about life (mostly high-level topics such as vintage curtains and popular toaster types), and as British pubs go, it turned 11pm and everyone turned into pumpkins and was kicked out following a bell ring of last orders. We ultimately exchanged mobile numbers under duress. Ricardo actually texted Seb first, volunteering a "whassup". Most notably, this text was not responded to until about 72 hours later. This was subsequently made up by a 72-hour long first date. Then, about another 88,000 hours later (or a decade plus), we are becoming espoused.
What is a “Cito”?
Shortly after we started dating, Seb tried to charm Ricardo with the basic Spanish he knew, adding the diminutive -cito to boyfriend, coining the term “Boyfriendcito”. Cito has since evolved into a list of 100 nicknames and monikers to call each other mostly for Seb to avoid rolling his Rrrrs.
Who proposed to whom?
Naturally, gay couples intending to take their relationship to the next level coexist in a perpetual stalemate of “who’s supposed to propose to whom?”. In our case, Sebastian realised it was inevitably going to be down to him to do a Beyoncé and put a ring on it while Ricardo lived in blissful mañana mañana mode.
Seb kneeled on his left knee at his mystical pier in Svartskog, his childhood home, by the Oslo fjord. The proposal was preceded by an impromptu 10-minute monologue for Seb to buy time as his neighbours had experienced an engine failure and were rowing past with a boat in tow. Ricardo was dumbfounded and blushed to a degree of redness practically requiring medical attention (likely due to a potent allergy attack triggered by the shocking proposal). This prompted a sequence of lovely events ultimately culminating in this wedding 3 years later.
Is your celebrity couple name Sebcardo?
We would advise for more creative attempts at corrupting our names, such as Cardastian or Bastiardo.