Arlene gazes at the skies. "It's going to be a beautiful day," she says.
Her boyfriend Rab, a dour Scot, grunts, "Aye, right."
Arlene's confused. "Isn't that an oxymoron, Robert? You said 'yes' twice." She's not Scottish and understands neither it's people nor its language.
"No, it's just an oxy, it's not a moron. 'Aye right' means no."
Suddenly the heavens open. Arlene seems sure to get soaked, but miraculously Rab produces an umbrella big enough for them both.
"I love you," she says, gazing at him, "but I'll never understand you."
"You'll never understand the weather either, will you?"
Her boyfriend Rab, a dour Scot, grunts, "Aye, right."
Arlene's confused. "Isn't that an oxymoron, Robert? You said 'yes' twice." She's not Scottish and understands neither it's people nor its language.
"No, it's just an oxy, it's not a moron. 'Aye right' means no."
Suddenly the heavens open. Arlene seems sure to get soaked, but miraculously Rab produces an umbrella big enough for them both.
"I love you," she says, gazing at him, "but I'll never understand you."
"You'll never understand the weather either, will you?"
