The Scene: A summer barbeque at our house. The sun is down and the rugrats are abed. Dopple-G, his wife, my own Lovely Wife and I are relaxing on the veranda with beers and cigars. Lovely Wife goes into the house to get a glass of wine. She returns with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. The bottle has about a half inch of wine in it.

Dopple-G: Why bother with a glass? There's barely a swig left in that bottle.

Lovely Wife: Because wine is drunk from glasses. Perhaps it's acceptable for Americans to drink from the bottle but I am European. I'm naturally more sophisticated.

At this point Lovely Wife is faced with a conundrum. Both hands have something in them. There are no flat surfaces ready at hand to put her glass upon. She solves the problem by biting the cork and spending considerable effort and no small amount of time to worry it out of the bottle. She then spits the cork across the veranda and prepares to pour the wine.

Dopple-G: (laughing) Oh, yeah. You're definitely more sophisticated. I probably would have used an armpit or something to get that out. And there's no way I could have spit that far for distance. Nowhere near sophisticated enough.

Lovely Wife realizes what she just did and starts laughing so hard that she drops her glass in the dirt. At this point she gives up and finishes off the wine with one good pull from the bottle.

So now you know why I call her Lovely Wife and not Sophisticated Wife.