"Well congratulations," says says Gina, looking up from her Newspaper.

The idea of a google employee reading a newspaper always cracks me up.

"For what?"  In a bathrobe, I'm just trying to get an iced coffee.

"Wendy told us you proposed to her."

Goddamit I need to get my own refrigerator upstairs.

Wincing and scratching my eyebrow, I reply "We had a conversation about getting married.  It was academic I thought."

I've been awake eight seconds, and I'm already in a death roll.

"We were all surprised too," she shrugged.

"I hate marriage," I explain, holding my head.  "Way too much yelling."

"Would it be such a bad thing?" she asks.  "You've been dating her for, like, five years.  She definitely loves you."

"I don't know," I says.  "Wendy is the first person I've dated since the divorce. Do I want her to turn into a vile screaming jealous lying hypocrite cheating psycho-shrew already?  No.  I think we are doing just fine as we are."

I twist the coffee cap off with a satisfying "pop" sound.

"I actually kinda like her," I elaborate.  "Why rush it?"