The CIA just called. I need to blow town for the weekend. But the confirmation code I had to leave to get my La Quinta room reservation reminded me of the way our nation has horribly degraded in it’s letter identification protocol when relaying sensitive personal data to strangers on the phone.
For instance, let’s say your confirmation code is CFG12HLM6. Do not try to identify it as a young lady attempted to repeat to me recently: “That’s “c” as in Camilla, Fred, Gigli, one, two, Hermimi, Latte, Mustard, six. Got that?”
Uh, no, sweet-cheeks. It goes a little like this:
A: Alpha
B: Bravo
C: Charlie
D: Delta
E: Echo
F: Foxtrot
G: Golf
H: Hotel
I: India
J: Juliet
K: Kilo
L: Lima
M: Mike
N: November
O: Oscar
P: Papa
Q: Quebec
R: Romeo
S: Sierra
T: Tango
U: Uniform
V: Victor
W: Whiskey
X: X-Ray
Y: Yankee
Z: Zulu
Lock and load, soldier! Know your damned alphabet!
Now, anybody seen my Papa Oscar? I gotta make notes on the road.
Posted in Humor, Social Commentary, Uncategorized | Tags: alphabet, confirmation code, data, military, sweet-cheeks