My Food on Wheels Operator Dabbles in Phone Sex!?!?!?
This week’s Sunday Scribbings prompt: Secrets
We order in a lot — two times a week minimum. Not only does it save us from having to cook, or eat out in public with a toddler, but it helps maintain the health and well being of our sink. It is both practical and delicious. Between Indian, Italian and Pan Asian, the delivery service covers most of the culinary bases. They also offer sushi, but who wants to eat Nigiri that’s been sitting on the backseat of some breaded dude’s 1977 Camaro?
Our propensity for using FoodonWheels2Go4U has fostered a weird relationship, for lack of a better term, with the woman who calls to confirm our orders. She and I have become fast chums, aside from knowing nothing about one another beyond first names and my salad dressing preferences.
She has a very breathy voice and is always approving in my choice of pastas. But Sunday night things ventured into some strange terrain. Our planned Father’s Day dinner out was aborted when we discovered a flat front tire exiting the driveway. Sure, I could have changed it on the spot, but having just mowed that morning I was not prepared to dish out another virile dose of rough and tumble manhood ™ in the same day. So we opted to dine in.
Typically, Food4u2Go phones within ten minutes to confirm all orders, but with our Vonage being about as dependable as Lindsay Lohan these days, I decided to call them. When, lets call her “Fiona” answered, she exclaimed how pleased she was to hear from me — and that my hot meal would arrive in an hour.
We exchanged parting pleasantries, and then she proceeded to conclude the conversation with an ultra breathy byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyye that lingered for a full twenty seconds. Gulp! What did I just order? I feel so violated.
I am beginning to suspect “Fiona” moonlights as sex chat operator. Did she switch shifts with a co-worker for Father’s Day and got her gigs mixed up? She already knew I preferred my clams hot and steamy, but that should go without saying. Man, I really wish she could have gone without saying that. Call me old fashion, but how a man takes his clams is an intensely private matter.
I will confess, that conversation was quite the unexpected Father’s Day present. Now if I can figure out a way of explaining it to the wife.
“Great, so now I need to learn how to cook too?”, he said begrudgingly munching on a tasty rice cake.
I’m convinced my JCrew operator also moonlights, because whenever I order, she tells me “that top is sooooo cute, and with the pants on page 19, you’ll look super sexy!” One time, she suggested a blouse on p 32, but when I told her I already had it, she asked me “oh, do you have it on right now….”
That’s a tasty little secret…
Very clever. Is every word of it true?
Hilarious post,Herb! You might be interested in my secret.
Maybe you should let your wife take those confirmation calls from now on. Or not. UmHum! Clever writing. Enjoyed it.
There might some truth in it. Isn’t it great to speculate?
Hee hee- reminds me of that Seinfeld episode!
Very funny indeed!!!
I’ll up Betty C.’s query one notch and ask: is any word of it true?
Now that’s a secret! Funny post.
What a hysterical post, Herb!! I laughed all the way through and will probably go back and read it again, just for the smiles.
I do think Annie has a good suggestion: maybe you want to let your wife make the confirmation calls for a while.
That was great! I don’t order in much! Now I am wondering if I should:)