I was driving home from Wegmans yesterday (If you’ve never been, it’s like shopping in a crazy, organic produce enriched food paradise where even the mens rooms will make you pause and think you’re in the wrong place with their FLOWERS AND LIVE PLANTS AND CLEANLINESS.) when I pulled up behind a vehicle that had a messy scrawl on the back window. I didn’t pay much attention at first. The local sports teams are always writing crap on their cars, after all, and I didn’t care about someone’s little soccer darling. But as I was stopped at a red light I realized it wasn’t anything like that.
Will you marry me? I said yes!
The “I said yes” was cozied up alongside the Will you marry me, the words pressed giddily together. My first reaction was aww. Then my second reaction, now that PA has legalized gay marriage was this heady consideration: I have no idea what type of couple this proud public proclamation was for. Statistically, it was probably a het couple, but it could have been a gay couple. As I fought traffic the entire way home it was a little less daunting.