“Well, we were always going to fail that one," said Ron gloomily as they ascended the marble staircase. He had just made Harry feel rather better by telling him how he told the examiner in detail about the ugly man with a wart on his nose in the crystal ball, only to look up and realize he had been describing the examiner's reflection.”
--J.K. Rowling: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
There are different flavors of embarrassment. (Ron, I suspect, is familiar with all of them.)
There is asking a (white) woman if her (Asian) daughter is her exchange student. In my defense, she DID have a Japanese exchange student present as well and had been talking about her.
There is feeling a slight tug as you slide out of the booth at McDonald's and realizing after you get home that you ripped the entire back pocket off and your underwear has been flapping in the breeze. Does it make it better or worse that I happened to be wearing flesh-colored panties that day?
There is your mom singing along with Justin Timberlake when your family is out getting some tacos. God, I love being the embarrassing one instead of the embarrassed one for once.
There is sending a panicked email to a colleague when your Airplay stops working--again--and him telling you the cord just wasn't plugged in--again. I swear I checked it the second time.
Ooh, that reminds me-- I just started listening to Born a Crime, and it's fabulous. My friend recommended listening to it, and even though I know I could blow through it in an afternoon if I read it, getting Trevor Noah's inflections and pacing, not to mention the accents, makes it even better. This is no celebrity memoir--it's funny and informative and heart-breaking and wise.