My wife and I were driving around the other day and got caught behind a particularly slow driver. I don't know how we get into conversations like this sometimes, but here it is:
The Wife: "If that idiot wants to park, he should use the lot over there, not the turning lane."
Me: "Yeah; that and I don't like his license plate."
TW: " 'He Gene?' Maybe his name is something like Howard Edward Gene."
Me: "He should have sounded it out before ordering it. It sounds like his boyfriend's name is Gene."
TW: "He can't be gay. Gays don't drive minivans."
I briefly thought about this in an effort to refute it, but I then realized that not a single one of my gay friends has a minivan. Curious.
Me: "So you're saying that gays have too much style to drive a minivan?"
TW: "Exactly... Lesbians, however, do drive minivans. I have experience with that."
We pulled into the lot and she caught site of the guy driving and said, "He's elderly too."
Me: "So there aren't any old, gay dudes?"
I hadn't known that it wore away over the years like a fine patina gently buffed off of a favored copper pot.
TW: "...and look, he's using a handicapped spot."
Me: "Yet another fine reason for him not to be gay."
The Wife countered with, "Just as good as you thinking he was gay due to his license plate."
Touché, mon coeur.
We ended up laughing at how goofy we sounded as we got out, but overall it was quite the educational day for me.