Woman? What woman?

Driving home from a psychiatrist appointment, at which May answered every question in a incoherent mumble from a slouched position on the couch, she comes alive for the first time all day and with a mischievous gleam in her eye asks a loaded question:

"You got a girlfriend?"

"What? A girlfriend? Oh, no."

"I don't know, it might be fun."

"No, I don't need a girlfriend."

"You were looking kind of sad the other day and I thought you could use a girlfriend."

"Usually one's wife does not recommend that you get a girlfriend as a cure for sadness."

"Are we married?"

"Yes! You're my wife!"

"Well, well..."

I turn down our alley and as the garage door is opening, she has one more question.

"So who is this woman?"