Turk: I told my mom you like that Cuban restaurant. She loves Cuban food-
Carla: I hate that restaurant.
Turk: Wow. So I really must have misunderstood you when you said you loved the place and you wanted to be buried in a vat of pltanos so you could eat your way out.
Carla: See? That's our problem. You don't get me.
Turk: No argument there.