I should invest in a coffee pot, not only would it save me time and money, (how much do they mark up that coffee anyway?) I could save myself quite a bit of embarrassment.
You have to understand, I'm a writer, the words you read I've had a chance to edit, finding just the right word to convey my intentions. Talking doesn't work so well for me. It's not that I'm not a chatter box, ask anyone that knows me, there's a problem if I'm not filling the silence but I don't always have a chance to edit the words before they're flying around, causing me embarrassment.
Like at the coffee shop this month. And these times the 'oh-no' feeling was even worse than the time I wrote Corner Panty instead of Corner Pantry on my check while paying for gas. The clerk thought it was so hilarious, she was sharing the story with all her other customers, including hero hottie, who had to tell me, with a huge grin, how every one was getting a chuckle over my misspelling.
The first coffee shop incident happened a couple of weeks ago. I ordered my regular size for really tired days, a 16 ounce coffee. Except my mind must have been on snooze still because I ordered a 16 inch coffee. Now, I didn't think anything of it, until hero hottie started chuckling beside me and muttering something about 16 inches. I love the guy, but he's a guy and sixteen inches apparently is a dirty joke. I'm sure I don't have to explain in further detail the jokes that were tossed back and forth at my expense between hero hottie and the guy taking the order. My cheeks were blazing and I could have kicked hero hottie in the shin for laughing in the first place.
And the second incident probably never would have happened had hero hottie not teased me about my 16 inch coffee order but he did and yesterday when we went in the coffee shop to order a very innocent cup of coffee, I was faced with the guy from last time and my mind started recalling the last time I ordered from him and all the times hero hottie had teased me about it. And instead of asking for a 16 ounce coffee, I was so busy hoping the guy didn't remember the last time I had ordered coffee, I asked for...
"Sixteen inch-ounce coffee." I asked, cringing as I realized that he had indeed heard the inches and completely remembered me from last time. The guy chuckled and proceeded with another bunch of dirty jokes.
I would have teleported if that was real or if I had been really bold I would have commented on their wishful thinking and the impracticability of such a thing as 16 inch 'coffee'. Instead, I took my coffee and decided I might have to find another place to embarrass myself at. Like at home. Or on my blog.
And contrary to what hero hottie says, even though a great deal of what I write is 'icky-icky' as my children call it, my mind is not in the gutter. His is. Because I'm not the one who took a word of measurement and turned it into a joke about guy's you know what.
In the meantime, I think it might be a while before I stop thinking about anatomy while drinking coffee.
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