J-Fed Makes A Bad Call

The foundation of my relationship with J-Fed was built on humor. He made me laugh, and I’m pretty sure that’s why I fell in love with him. But like any good comedy act, it always comes to an end. And for us, the curtain has come down for the last time.

That’s not to say there’s no longer any laughter. The only difference is now I’m laughing at him, not with him. It may sound mean but I think the contentious bastard deserves every guffaw that I send in his direction. Even to this day, I’m blown away by the things that come out of his mouth.

For example, when I called J-Fed to tell him that the kids and I had arrived to our destination safely, he asked if we had driven straight through the night. It was a 13-hour trip, and about 5 hours into it at 2:30 a.m., Kuku and I decided it would be better to break up the journey and check into a hotel. So I tried explaining this to J-Fed.

“What time did you leave the hotel this morning?” he asked me.

“We checked out about 7:30 a.m.,” I replied.

“Damn, you had to pay for a whole night, even though you only stayed for five hours?” he questioned. Yes J-Fed. We’re not hookers, and any hotel that rents by the hour is more than likely not a place where the kids and I would be laying our heads. Besides, a motel with mirrors on the ceiling and porn on every channel of the TV more than likely wouldn’t have a breakfast buffet, unless it consisted of bourbon, coke and condoms.

Instead of impressing him with my quick wit, I simply replied that the only hotels that had rooms available were ones that required payment for a full-night’s stay, and well that was ALL OF THEM. He seemed satisfied with that response and it wasn’t much longer before we concluded our conversation.