"Phillip, It's Tina. I need help. The car is stuck."

"What do you mean it's stuck? That's my new car! What the hell happened?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean? And stop speaking in that condescending tone you always use when you're annoyed. The car is stuck in the mud and I'm calling you for help, not criticism. Stop being mean."

"I'm sorry if I sound annoyed, but you're driving my brand new BMW. I saved for years to finally afford that car and I don't want anything to happen to it. I lent it to you for one simple errand and now you call and tell me you managed to get it stuck in the mud. Didn't you see the mud hole? Why weren't you paying attention?"

"I was trying to pay attention. You told me to hurry, so I programmed the GPS to take the shortest route and it took me down this horribly rutted dirt road and right into a huge mud hole. It wasn't my fault. Blame the GPS."

"How badly is it stuck?"

"It wasn't too bad to begin with, but the more gas I give it, the more the tires spin and the deeper it sinks. What if it's quicksand? OMG, I could be swallowed up, car and all."

"Then stop giving it gas!"

"Don't yell at me, Phillip. I'm doing the best I can. Calm down. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry. How deep is the mud?"

"I'd say the tires are pretty well buried and the mud is about level with the bottom of the door. I'm afraid to open the door, because the muddy water might flood in and mess up my new sandals. I just got them on sale at Neiman Markus - 50% off."

"I don't give a damn about your sandals, what about my leather seats?"

"Don't curse at me. Of course, the interior of the car would get messed up, too. Duh! That's why I'm smart enough not to open the door. Give me a little credit."

"Tina, this is not the first time you've messed up my car. Last week you drove all the way back from the grocery store with the emergency brake on. You'll have to admit that doesn't say much for your driving skills."

"Actually, that doesn't say much for the emergency brake. Hello-o-o, if that emergency brake were any good, it would have done its job and stopped the car; that's what brakes are for. Instead, it let me drive all the way home smelling that awful burnt rubber smell. Why are you always criticizing me?"

"Look, let's not argue. My boss will be here for dinner at 8:00 and you were supposed to pick up the wine. You did manage to get the wine didn't you?"

"Of course I picked up the wine! But I couldn't get the one you asked for. The guy at the wine shop said he had never heard of it."

"Never heard of it? What the heck did you ask for?"

"I asked for exactly what you told me. Stop being so condescending. I do know how to follow instructions. You said you wanted a wine called Seven Young Blondes and that's what I asked for."

"No, Tina, that's not what I said. I said Sauvignon Blanc."

"Well you should enunciate more clearly next time. It sounded like seven young blondes to me. Anyway there's no need to worry. Sauvignon Blanc is what the guy at the wine store gave me. Sauvignon Blanc is probably French for seven young blondes."

"Never mind the wine, let's get to the problem at hand. We need to get you unstuck. Listen carefully and just do as I say."

"There you go mansplaining again."

"Look, Tina, I'm running out of patience. Do you want to get out of the mud or not?"

"Yes, that's why I called you. I just don't like being talked down to like I'm some sort of dumb blond. That is sexist stereotyping and I won't put up with it. For your information, despite appearances, blond is not my natural color. I'm really a brownhead."

"You mean brunette?"

No, I mean brownhead. People with red hair are called redheads and people like me with dark roots should be called brownheads, or maybe brownettes. Brunette should be reserved for people with dark brown hair, or maybe they should just be called dark brownheads. And as for people with black hair, I guess it would be gross to call them blackheads, like the pimples, but what else is there? Brunette doesn't fit and Blackette doesn't sound right either. And what about people with gray hair? What should they be called - grayheads? I find the names of hair colors to be very confusing, don't you?"

"What the hell does that have to do with getting the car out of the mud? I need you to listen very carefully and do just as I say. Okay?"

"Okay, mister know-it-all, I'm listening."

"First, make sure the wheels are pointed straight ahead."

"Done."

"Now put the car in low gear and slowly give it just a little gas to try to gain traction. Do you understand?"

"Of course, I understand. Don't patronize me. Here goes. I'm stepping on the gas but the wheels are spinning really fast and mud is splattering everywhere. I think the mud is up to that axle thingy underneath the car."

"Stop! You're giving it too much gas!"

"There you go yelling again."

"I'm not yelling."

"Yes, you most certainly are, and I don't appreciate it."

"I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated."

"You're frustrated? How about me, I'm... Oh no, no, aargh!"

"Tina, what's the matter, what happened? Tina, why did you scream? Tina, speak to me!"

"I was afraid something awful like this would happen. It's ruined."

"Afraid what would happen? W-w-hat's ruined?"

"My manicure. $75 worth of acrylic nails and two of them just broke off on the stupid gearshift, I think I'm going to cry."

"Look, let's both just calm down. We've got to get you out of the mud. I'm a member of AAA and since you're driving my car, I think I can call them to send a wrecker to pull you out."

"You're a member of Alcoholics Anonymous? I know we've only been dating a few months, but I think you should have told me a thing like that! No wonder you sent me out for wine."

"No, Tina, AAA is not Alcoholics Anonymous, its...oh, never mind. Let's just focus on getting you and my car home in one piece."

"Wait! Before you call anyone, there's a guy on a big tractor headed this way. Maybe he can help."

"Thank goodness, I'll hold on while you talk with him."

"The farmer says he can pull me out with his tractor for $75. Is that a good deal?"

"Not really, AAA is free and they're probably better set up for towing expensive cars. Why don't you just turn off the car and wait until AAA sends a tow truck."

"I don't think Alcoholics Anonymous has tow trucks and besides, I'm tired of being stuck in here. If I turn off the car that means the AC goes off and I'll have to roll down the window. If I do that, the heat and humidity will make my hair all frizzy."

"Alright, hand the phone to the farmer and let me talk with him."

"Hello, this is Joe Jones. I own the farm down the road. Once I hook up the tow chain, it will be simple to pull the car out of the manure pit. And don't worry about damage, I will be very careful."

"Manure pit? Tina said it was a mud hole."

"Well, it is kind of a mud hole, just a tad more smelly, but don't you worry. I'll have your pretty girlfriend and her car out of the pit in no time."

"It's not her car, and please be careful."

"Good news, Phillip. The nice farmer got the car out of the mud. But the gas gauge is on empty. He's going back to his barn to get a couple of gallons of gas. He says it will be $10.00 a gallon, is that okay?"

"Tina, don't tell me you didn't stop for gas. That was the last thing I asked you to do when you left. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you told me to hurry up, that's what I was thinking. I can't be expected to remember everything. Besides, I would have made it back with a gallon or two to spare if I hadn't gotten stuck. Lighten up. I never knew you were such a sour puss. Joe, the handsome farmer, saw how badly you upset me and said to tell you that you should be ashamed of yourself. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but he just asked me out and I accepted. The truth is, I just don't see a future for us, what with you being an alcoholic and all."

"I'm not an alcoholic."

"You're probably in denial. If you weren't an alcoholic, why would you join AA?"

"I don't belong to AA; I belong to AAA. Never mind, you're probably right. When you get here, I'll call a cab to take you home."

"You don't have to do that. Joe is going to follow me in his pickup truck and then the two of us are going out for a nice dinner. I'm sorry it has to end this way, but we're just not right for each other."

"I understand."

"And when we get there, please don't be mad at Joe. It's not his fault."

"Don't worry, I'm not mad at Joe. As a matter of fact, tell him I wish him the best of luck...I think he's going to need it."