Detroit, and Jacob Can't Dance

Confession: I didn't really know what to expect from Detroit, and I'm a little embarrassed about that, because Detroit rules. We found a diner where the waitress called us both "baby" in a way that somehow meant nothing and everything at once, there was Motown coming out of a speaker held together with tape, and the coney dogs were a borderline religious experience.

Then we went to Hitsville — the Motown Museum — and I learned a critical fact about Jacob Monroe.

The man cannot dance.

He has many gifts. He can parallel park on the first try. He stays calm when I am being, by all accounts, so extra. But there was a little spot where you could try the old Temptations steps, and Jacob attempted them, and it looked like a very handsome scarecrow being attacked by bees. I have never loved anyone this much. I filmed it. I will treasure it. He made me promise not to post it, so it's going in the vault, right next to the snow globe.

Texted the clip to Abby anyway. She sent back nine crying-laughing emojis and two words: "marry him."

Working on it, Ab. Slowly. Working on it.

— E