“I’m drowning,” she said. “Please, throw me the life preserver.”
“Are you sure,” he asked. “You look like you are doing just fine.”
“No,” she replied, “I am drowning. Please help.”
“Did you know that the average person can tread water for three minutes?” he replied. “I, myself, can do it for at least twenty. Not to brag you understand.”
“You, on the other hand, have been in the water for less than two minutes, by my watch. So, you could not possibly be drowning.”
She reflected upon this for a moment, as she began to drift further out to sea. “Perhaps,” she allowed, “but nonetheless, I am drowning. Please.”
“How,” he inquired, “did you get here?”
“I fell and now I am drowning. Please call for help.”
“You ought to be more careful,” he offered, “and you should really practice swimming. With a little planning and exercise, you would not find yourself in positions like these.”
“The water is cold,” she pleaded.
“I fail,” he countered, “to see the relevance of this information.”
“Please save me.”
“Are you sure you cannot stand? I do not even think the water is that deep.”
“Quickly!” was her urgent reply.
“Here. Let me tie my shoe first, I would not want to trip.”
As she began to sink, she let out one last cry.
“As long as you understand, this is a personal favor. I do, you know, have other things to do.”
And as he fished her out of the deep, he looked at her intently, “You know that bathing suit you are wearing?”
“Yes?” she sputtered and gasped.
“It makes you look fat.”