Because Everyone Should have an Embarrassing Fifty Shades Story

I resisted reading the Fifty Shades series, not because I was put off by the erotic nature of the books, but because the media had coined the series, 'mommy porn', which sounded about as sexy as oatmeal to me.  The summer TV schedule, however, had me looking around for alternate forms of entertainment one night, leading me to a copy of the first book of the series that my mom had cast off to me.  FYI, being given second-hand 'mommy porn' by one's own mother is also not terribly enticing.

Walking through Costco a few days later, I noticed that they carried the other two books from the trilogy at a good price.  I understand that I could have downloaded the e-book versions for free, but I am still a fan of paper, and the books were right there, so I threw them in the cart.

At the check-out, as with any Costco I have been in, there was an employee stacking each person's order onto the conveyor belt, ensuring that the line moved quickly.  He piled my order quite high so as to leave space for the next person's order.  The books were on top, and I admittedly bothered to turn them face-down to avoid possible embarrassment.

The conveyor belt lurched forward as the cashier scanned items for the man in front of me, causing one of the books to slide off of my pile of goods, and over the scanner.  The man in front of me with the mullet and beer shirt now had my pornographic novel itemized on his receipt.  The cashier quickly remedied the situation, and I grinned, imagining this man explaining to his significant other why it appeared that he made an attempt to purchase that particular book.

The man then grinned at me, and commented that his wife was currently reading the same series.  "Oh... well... hopefully that's working out well for you.", I muttered, while looking down at my feet, wondering why I don't seem to have a filter that prevents me from saying such things to strange men at check-outs.

I just kept willing for the line to move faster so the man in front of me would leave.  I could imagine what he might have been thinking, and I didn't want to continue to stand there, watching him possibly think it.

Finally he was on his way to the parking lot, leaving me to regain my composure.  Then the matronly looking woman behind me tapped me on the shoulder and asked, "Is it a worthwhile read?  What's it about?"

E-books.  I get it now.