Both Gary and my families are from Florissant, a suburb of Saint Louis. (It is not pronounced "Fluorescent" but rather "FLOOR-ih-sent." It's French! French for "Valley of the Moms.") It's a middle-class suburb, and happily it's becoming more and more diverse the older it gets.
So, Gary and I were driving to Florissant on Highway 270 in the inclement weather on Christmas Eve, and as we exited the off-ramp I said,
"Watch out for black ice."
Gary was shocked for some reason. "What! What did you say?"
"Black ice. Watch out."
"Ellen! You aren't serious! You did not just say that!"
"What? Watch out for black ice? What's wrong with that? You have to be careful."
"Oh my GOD! What is wrong with you?"
Luckily, we both caught on and I started enunciating more clearly.