Did the F-bomb recently fall off the list of most offensive curse words when I wasn’t paying attention?
More and more, I hear it creep into everyday conversation.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m neither sanctimonious nor hypocritical. I’ll drop the bomb when I drop something on my toe. In the safe company of friends and family, I’ll throw it around when I’m throwing a tantrum.
But I certainly don’t use the F word in public, and never, ever in the company of a stranger. Call me an old fogey. Conditioned at an early age, I still bristle when I hear it (not as much as G.D., but a close second).
Recently my husband and I were sliding our plastic trays through the line at a rest stop carryout. The people in front of us were stopped, holding up the line. We waited patiently.
Wishing to go around them but not wanting to take cutsies, I finally asked the woman, “Excuse me, are you waiting for an order?”
She replied, “Why, are we f—ing you up?” (I believe the word she was looking for was “holding.”)
We scooted around the waiting couple and got the heck out of there. Yes, heck.
Saturday night, we were having dinner at the bar in a neighborhood place. The dinner crowd had ebbed, so it was pretty quiet.
All of a sudden, I heard the woman beside me lash out at her partner, in an outside voice, “You’re just so f—ing impetuous!”
What’s the world coming to, gosh darn it?
Word Nymph 