Ginger: What’s the number for AAA?
Ginger: That’s not enough numbers.
Ginger: Okay, we’ll try that.
Ruby: What number did you call?
Ginger: Apparently, India.
Ginger: What? No, no, try it with 4 A’s. Ruby, did you say something?
Ruby: What happened?
Ginger: The woman on the phone wants to know what city we’re in…
Ruby: I wouldn’t mind knowing myself…?
Ginger: We’re on I-90, Mile Marker 2, we can see Mannheim Road. What city is that?
Ginger: In the rearview mirror, I can see Allstate Arena. What? We’re not in Marengo!
Ruby: No, you’re definitely not in Marengo…why does she need to know what city you’re in? It’s I-90, sitting over Mannheim. I’m pretty sure it’s the only place in the country that has that.
Ginger: Okay, now, in the rearview mirror, I can see flashing lights…
Ruby: Ginger, what’s going on?
Ginger: We blew a tire on I-90, I was driving because the owner of the car was really too tired to drive anywhere right now, the Triple-A lady thinks we’re in Marengo, although we’ve explained to her at least four times that we’re on I-90 over Mannheim Road and now a really cute cop is coming up to the window – Hello, Officer.
Ginger: I’ll call you back.
Fly: What’s wrong?
Ruby: Ginger’s going to flirt a cop into changing a tire for her on I-90.
Fly: Sounds simple enough for her.
Ginger: I’m so glad I remembered to say “Officer” and not “Oss-if-er.”
Ruby: Me, too. Is he changing the tire?
Ginger: He would, if the car had a spare.
Ruby: What? What kind of car doesn’t have a spare?
Ginger: A Mazda RX-7, apparently.
Ruby: That’s insane! That’s ridiculous! How does the car handle?
Ginger: Like a sports car…until you blow a tire, going 65 mph. Then, it wobbles a bit.
Ruby: So, now what’s going on?
Ginger: Cute-ass-cop is calling for maintenance people. And putting things back in the trunk.
Ruby: That’s nice of him.
Ginger: Yeah. I’d help if I didn’t have the Black-Eyed Peas stuck in my head.
Ruby: You’re going to have to explain that one.
Ginger: No, cause then it’ll get stuck in your head, too.
Ruby: Oh. Well, in that case…thanks?
Ginger: Oh, maintenance people have arrived. Call you back.
Fly: Can we go back to sleep yet?
Ruby: And the maintenance people said?
Ginger: We can’t fix the tire with a plug, the cute officer had to leave to take care of some accident and I didn’t get his number or name or badge number before he left and now we’re calling a tow truck.
Ruby: Oh. Fun.
Ginger: The car has to go to some weird suburb, though.
Ginger: Because that’s where the car owner lives.
Ruby: How are you getting back to town, then?
Ginger: Apparently. Oh, tow truck’s here. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Ruby: Are you seriously going to wait on the side of I-90 for a limousine?
Ginger: No. Don’t be silly. Limousines aren’t hailed like taxis. We’re going to hop the fence and walk down to the not-at-all-dodgy-looking hotel. We can see it from here.
Ruby: Ginger…don’t do that…
Ginger: Or we’ll ask the tow truck guy to drive us there. You’re not in a humorous mood at 1:45 am, you know.
Ruby: I’ve noticed.
Ginger: Call you tomorrow.
Ruby: Okay. And then after that, don’t forget, you’ve got a date with Supermarket Man.
Ginger: I haven’t forgotten, I was just blithely ignoring the facts.
Ruby: As per usual.
Ginger: Yeah. Bye now.
Ruby: It’s Ginger. The glass will always be half-full.
Fly: Are we talking about the same Ginger?
Ruby: Okay, so, half-full of poison…
Fly: Better. Can we go back to sleep now?