This morning I went to this Verizon store on Wilshire to check out the Droid, a new smartphone that does much of what the iPhone does. I didn’t wind up getting it because, like a dumbass, I didn’t realize that the advertised price of $199 was only if you were due for an upgrade or a new customer. If I’m going to pay $530 for a phone, it can’t be merely brilliant. It’s got to clean under my fridge, make my children chicken nuggets, and keep them from bugging me while I’m watching Mad Men. I’ll wait until March when it’ll be more reasonable.

While I was there, though, I took a hold of the thing to get a sense of what it felt like in my hands, and tested out some features. I logged onto Facebook to see what it looked like on the high-res screen.

I guess I forgot to log off, because when I got back to my computer, I noticed that someone, likely the next person who fondled the Droid, had posted an obscene status update for me: “I just gave the guy at Starbucks a blow job.” There was, in fact, a Starbucks across the street–that’s a photo of it, above. By the time I saw it, I had 6 “likes” and 16 comments from folks I went to high school with, mostly to the effect of, “You didn’t think he’d prefer a cash tip?” and “I hope he gave you a free latte.”

Needless to say, I deleted the post, changed my password, and was thankful that what he or she wrote wasn’t more damaging to my earning potential. I mostly hoped that Marge and Walter, my husband’s parents, didn’t see it.

At first I thought that the commentators believed that I had actually given the guy at Starbucks a blow job and shared it with my Facebook friends, and was horrified. Then I realized that not one of them thought I had done that, and was even more horrified! That the idea was inconceivable to so many speaks for itself.

I suppose I should be happy about that, but a small part of me is not. No, I would never give the guy at Starbucks a blow job (not least of all because I’m a Dunkin’ Donuts gal.) And no, I’d never give the guy at Dunkin’ Donuts a blow job, either. The fact is, I’m not giving anyone who is not my husband anything even remotely close to what I supposedly gave the Starbucks guy. What’s more, I can’t think of a single thing that I might actually do that would be shocking in a status update, and that’s a wee bit sad.

I am, however, glad that Marge and Walter can hold their heads high at synagogue.