With a shared hate of pedal taverns, this couple fell in love

Holden Penley felt seriously peeved.

On a two-mile Sunday afternoon drive from his downtown loft near Third Man Records to his favorite Thai place, he passed four pedal taverns. Four!

He wasn't at the bar, but here the bar was pulling up next to his car at the red light on Church and Third, bachelorettes in matching outfits belting out tunes.

His blood boiled.

Though he normally was not much for social media, he couldn't contain himself. He ripped off a rant on Facebook. Still irked, he submitted a heated — but, he thought, well-reasoned — letter to the Nashville Scene for publication.

The headline: "Tavern on the Groan."

More: Nashville pedal taverns face off in court. Seriously.

Then he let it go. He didn't know that The Scene published his letter as part of its love/hate mail. He never imagined that there was an intelligent blonde reading it and admiring his prose.

But one morning in late July 2015, Facebook dinged and a note from a female stranger appeared in Messenger.

"Hi Holden," it said. "We don't know each other, but I saw your letter in the Scene about Pedal Taverns. And just wanted to give you a virtual high five. I couldn't have said it better myself. Cheers!"

It was signed by a woman named Erica.

A woman who hated pedal taverns as much as he did.

A woman with whom he would very soon fall in love.

'There would be axes and bonfires involved'

Erica Vick was often vocal about her venomous feelings toward bars with wheels.

Her rants on Facebook were many.

In fact, just days before Penley's pedal tavern hater post appeared, she had written yet another of her own.

"If I were running for mayor," it read, "my entire campaign platform would focus on the elimination of pedal taverns in downtown Nashville. There would be axes and bonfires involved, and I would win by a landslide. #oneissuevoter #icanteven #pedaltavernsaretheworst."

Vick is a lawyer, and from her high-rise office overlooking Broadway, she could hear the "whoo girls" shouting on Friday afternoons. All the way up on the 24th floor.

It was too much.

Her Facebook posts were famous among her friends, so when Penley's similar sentiments appeared in the Scene, one pal immediately passed it along — certain that Penley was Vick's soulmate.

Vick played along, sharing it on her feed, saying, "We shall get married in the light of a burning pedal tavern."

But it was a joke. As a single mom with a then-6-year-old son, Vick wasn't seeking anti-pedal-tavern love.

This guy could be married. Interested in men. Too old. Too young. Maybe crazy.

All some cyber-stalking showed was that he went to Georgetown, had pictures in China and liked to hike.

Well, she had to admit, that seemed normal enough.

"You have to reach out to him," a friend said. "You've got nothing to lose."

She was right. So Vick collected some courage and sent him a message.

To her delight, he responded.

Desire in dislike

"Well thanks," the message began, responding to Vick's virtual high-five.

"It's really cool to hear from you. It's an awkward thing for me — I'm not a negative person or a 'hater' so to speak but I do feel pretty passionate on this issue. I just love Nashville and hoped it was possible to write something to capture my feelings appropriately. Your message makes me feel like I succeeded and I appreciate it."

A few more back-and-forths on Messenger and the couple concluded that they should meet. At a bar. Without wheels.

Their first date was at Pinewood Social a little more than a week later. That was almost three years ago. They got engaged in St. Barts this past May.

Penley laughs about it now.

"I've heard that there are studies that say people who are brought together by things that they dislike actually stay together longer than those brought together by things that they like," he says. "And in this case, we've found it to be true."

What he saw in Vick was a woman with smarts and reason. The fact that she had reached out to him showed she wasn't afraid to act. Plus, she was funny.

"I liked the way she thought," Penley says. "It ended up having much broader character representation of taste and opinion, which is where we bonded."

Love conquers hate

And the combined force of their love may have helped conquer what they hate.

In January 2016, the Metro Council unanimously approved legislation that gave the Metro Transportation Licensing Commission — the seven-member panel that oversees commercial vehicles in Nashville — new authority to regulate hours of pedal taverns, pedicabs and pedal carriages.

At the council hearing, they got a shoutout from the floor for their grass-roots efforts.

In October of that year, the Metro Transportation Licensing Commission restricted the hours that pedal taverns could operate, keeping them off the roads during peak traffic hours in the morning and early evening.

"We're credited with that," Vick says with a grin.

"Which is completely untrue," Penley adds with a laugh. "But the spirit of it is appreciated."

What is true is their love. Penley and Vick plan to marry at the Nashville courthouse in September and throw a party on a hotel rooftop on Second Avenue.

It will be downtown. Where the pedal taverns frolic.

But there is little chance one will show up at the reception.

"I'm pretty sure we are on some sort of no-fly list for pedal taverns," Vick jokes. "We would never be able to rent one."

Reach Jessica Bliss at jbliss@tennessean.com or 615-259-8253 and on Twitter @jlbliss.