Gavin: Oh, don't, don't, don't! Wait! Wait, guys, wait. I know I should have been here an hour ago, but I was at the warehouse getting your security deposit back.
Schmidt: Why would you...
Gavin: Let me finish, trust me. That slumlord wouldn't give it to me unless I cleaned the place, and once I started... I don't know if you know, but I'm a little OCD.
Schmidt: Me, too.
Gavin: Yeah, it runs in the family. Your grandfather had to touch every lamppost he passed. He couldn't hold a job. Until he got a job as a lamppost repair man.
Schmidt: Why wouldn't you just call?
Gavin: Oh, I got kicked in the back of the head by some kids who were using that dump as a place to practice their urban dancing. They-they were honestly pretty good, until they beat me and took my phone. And my wallet and my watch. I had to run over here... well, actually it was... it was more of a... a walk-jog. I threw up once. I'm not very good at doing the right thing when it comes to you. But I wanted to start tonight. You are not getting married at that slaughterhouse.
Schmidt: Okay, well, then where am I getting married?
Gavin: At my vineyard. If you want. It'll be beautiful. I talked to Cece. She said it's up to you. I just want you to know, either way, I'm all in from here on out.
Schmidt: We're getting married at a vineyard.