Warning: Moderately explicit imagery ahead. If you are young and impressionable, easily shocked, or my parents, feel free to move along.

This morning I kicked off my list of errands with a stop at the fitness center, where I pounded out a 55-minute suffer fest on their diabolical machines. I find that ignoring exercise is the easiest way to get through it, so I queued up an old audiobook that I bought last year based on an inexplicable number of five-star reviews and never could finish.

Almost immediately, the two main characters jumped into bed together (and by bed, I mean the shower). Since I’m not one for the, uh, more intimate scenes, I set the player to double speed and hoped the hero and heroine found quick gratification.

They did not. Their staying power was impressive, their stamina improbable. And the author described everything in such detail that even the most die-hard love scene fans would find it tedious. It went on. And on. And on. Annoyed, I finally gave up, stopping the book well before the big finish (if their recent performance was any indication).

Over the next hour Sunshine and I drove all over town, ticking through my to-do list. Just before lunchtime, when my exercise session and the accompanying book were a distant and unpleasant memory, we hit our final stop.

My iPod dock recently died – it could play music, but it couldn’t charge any devices. Since it was less than a month old, I took it back to Radio Shack to see what they could do. I explained the issue and handed it to the guy at the counter, a skinny kid in his early twenties. Just to be helpful, I also passed over my iPod so he could diagnose the problem. Because I’d already gone through a few rounds of testing on my own, the dock’s volume was up. When the guy clicked my iPod into place and pressed the play button, it positively blared my audiobook, the narrator picking up mid-sentence with the lascivious, “…circling lazily around her nipple.”

Horrified, I leapt forward and yanked the iPod out of the dock, but it was too late. The store was utterly silent, every customer frozen in place. A million explanations came to mind, but I was a second too late for a convincing, “Oh, my. I wonder how that got on there?”

The awkwardness hung in the air until, flustered, the salesclerk thrust a new dock at me and wished me a good afternoon. He couldn’t quite meet my eyes, which was fine since I couldn’t look at him either. Through force of will I lifted my chin, flashed a cursory smile in his general direction, thanked him, and fled. Sunshine, oblivious, waved a cheerful goodbye to everyone on our way out the door.

Although I’ll have to let the incident ripen a bit before I know for certain, I believe this morning’s debacle just nudged aside number three on my list of Most Embarrassing Moments. (Yes, there are two that are worse than this.) Want to make me feel better? Share one of yours below, or put it up on your blog and give me a link in the comments so I can go check it out.

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