As I get older, it gets harder to embarrass me. I do things today I couldn’t imagine doing in my twenties. It’s one of the few things I appreciate about the passage of time.

But the other day was something of a record.

I have a friend, Jenn LeBlanc, who is a fabulous photographer who specializes in romance novel covers. (If you ever want a cover, take a look at her portfolio.) Jenn was in town for a conference, and the guy she was supposed to shoot had to cancel on her. So she asked if I knew anyone. Well, I know this may come as a surprise, but I don’t know many people who are romance novel cover material. Well, actually, that’s not strictly true—I just don’t see my friends that way.

I do, however, know a lot of trainers and other gym rats. So I texted one and asked her. After a couple of days, she hadn’t come up with anyone and the one person she had asked had declined. I met her at the gym to work out, and we started…well…looking around. Then she asked one of her trainer friends if she knew anyone.

Well, the other woman, Rita, pointed out a guy in the gym and said “what about him? He was in the FDNY calendar.” (Which, I should point out as the wife of a firefighter—albeit a volunteer—you should probably buy. You can do so right here.) At which point, my embarrassing moment happened. Yes, I walked up to a complete stranger and asked him if he might be interested in posing for romance novel covers.

And he said yes! Unfortunately, then he got sick and couldn’t make it to the shoot. But he did agree to pose for Jenn at a later date. So at least some good came out of my acting like a complete weirdo!

Oh, yeah. And after all that? Turns out my husband actually knows the guy. Turns out he could have asked for me and saved me the embarrassment. But when I asked him whether he knew anyone, he magically forgot. *sigh* Real life men are not like romance heroes. Even (especially?) the ones we marry.