Part of his probation is a requirement to attend counseling. The sex offender counseling program we have here has a long and unwieldy name. We generally refer to it by its acronym. I hate it when people talk in acronyms and jargon. It's been one of my pet peeves for years, yet I do the same thing all the dang time. This was one of those times. Thankfully, however, the letters don't spell anything cutesy, so I've not been reduced to calling it "sox" or anything. (Sex Offender Counseling).
"So, Joe, have you missed any meetings at ~long string of random letters~?"
"What is that?" he asked, seeming genuinely worried that he'd missed something important.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean the ~long unwieldy name~." I glanced up from my paperwork and met his eye apologetically. "I know. It's quite a mouthful."
The minute I said it, I wanted to bang my head on the desk. Suffice it to say that given Joe's offense, this was a particularly poor choice of words. His jaw dropped. I don't know which of us was more appalled.
Some days
Argh!
The end.
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