A few years ago the battery in my beat-up VW Beetle had died
because I left the lights on overnight. I was in a hurry to
get to work on time so I ran into the house to get my wife, a blonde, to give me a hand starting the car. I told her to get into our second car, a prehistoric oversized gas guzzler, and use it to push my car fast enough to start it. I pointed out that because the VW had an automatic transmission, it needed to be pushed at least 30mph for it to start.
She said "fine!", hopped into her car and drove off.
I sat there fuming and wondering what she could be doing.
A minute passed by and when I saw her in the rear-view mirror
coming at me at about 40 mph, and I suddenly realized that I
should have been a bit clearer with my directions...
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