Well played, sir. Well played.

Ok, ok. I'll tell one on myself. It actually happened today, so that's nice. Convenient, right?

My parents and I went to dinner at Outback. I was telling my mom some story from work (I cannot remember what it was) when our waiter (of course, he was a cutie) came to take our order. As I start to order, I forget what it was I had planned to get, having been involved in conversation up till that point. So as I'm racking my brain, it throws 'filet' at me.

Me (internal thoughts): 'Filet', alright, what size? Which is the smaller? Was it 6 and 8 oz, or 7 and 9 oz? Damn. I can't remember.

Me (aloud): I'd like the filet... the smaller... the, what, 7 oz Victoria's Secret-- oh, shit.

Yes. I asked the cutie waiter for the Victoria's Secret filet.

Did you know it was possble to feel a blush as it happens? I didn't until today.

And his quick-on-his-feet reply? As he's writing down the order, he glances back up at me and deadpans, "Y'know, we might be able to find the matching top for that."

...

I died a little on the inside, but really, what can you do in a situation like that except laugh?

*sigh* My parents have been calling me Vickie ever since. On the plus side, at least I know I made an impression.