"F" as in Foxtrot!

It is completely amazing the things that will make you think of a post.  Today is Wednesday, so the morning was cleaning day.  The afternoon I get a sitter and run errands.  But on this day, not only did I do the usual cleaning, but I  also cleaned my desk/blogspace because the cable guy was supposed to come and install my cable internet access.  What y’all, my readers do not know, is that while you are reading this, thinking nothing of it, The Great Omnipotent One and my Mom are reading this saying, “Thank God! I thought she’d never clean her damn desk.  And while you’re at it, why don’t you clean that frickin’ mess pile of crap next to your phone in the kitchen?!”  Heh. That’s another day.  This of course is a compromise as to what is being thought… my Mother’s thoughts being much sweeter and TGOOs thoughts being a little less sweet.  (Big Grin)

**Sidenote:  The Great Omnipotent one is my real Dad, not a blogfather. Explanation is HERE.**

OK, so I’m cleaning my desk and I find this Letter F from an alphabet puzzle.  A wooden letter F with little footprints painted on it.  Footprints… F… get it?  And this reminded me of a story. Surprise.

I was 21, had just graduated from college and had my first and only post college job.  As a graduation gift, my folks gave me a down payment for my first car.  My Dad and I spent days shopping for it.  I had never owned a car, so this was a big deal.  We finally settled on a little 1987 Mazda 323, in burgundy, no whistles and bells other than A/C (you gotta have A/C in FL)… man I loved that car. I got something like 35 mpg.  It was manual drive, like I love.  It had pep, but not too much power that would entice my lead foot. 

We come home and I have to call my insurance company. They make you read out your VIN to them to get it in the system.  I read it out and my habit now is to read letters out like TGOO does, in military lingo, Lima, Tango, Zulu, but at the time this was not my habit so there was an issue with the validity of my VIN as there was a letter misheard.

“S?,” she said.
“No, F,” I replied.
“S?”
“No, F, as in…. “  Now I am silent.  TGOO is standing there and I am looking at him, drawing a blank. The only words I could think of that started with F were Fuck and Fart  and I sure as hell couldn’t say that on the phone!  Not to this sweet lady from TX. 

TGOO looks at me in bewilderment at my silence and says, “Foxtrot!  Foxtrot!”, to which I said into the phone, “F! (pause), as in Foxtrot!”  I could not quit laughing.  I told him what my problem was after I hung up and he just rolled his eyes, shook his head and walked away.  To this day, it still frickin' cracks me up!