folks from St. Jude

Yesterday on the 6 train, I sat across from what appeared to be a New York woman in her mid-thirties entertaining a visit from her loud, ill-attired suburban parents.

They were all discussing some fourth person (say, "other daughter") who likes Asti Spumante, which "mom" totally couldn't pronounce, and then "mom" went on to say that "other daughter" had at some point requested a mimosa, and mom's reply had been (imagine this really loud on the 6):

"A mimosa? That's not a drink, that's a tree we have outside the trailer!"