[Names changed to protect the innocent and amused.]
I once barrelled over to the tent of a musketeer I knew after a battle re-enactment. He wasn't there, so I found his wife and chirpily enquired, "Hi Sue, is it OK with you if I borrow Steve's worm? I'll use it right here, it won't take a minute."
Didn't even realise how that sounded till Sue started snorting with laughter.
[The context clarifies: I'd had a misfire, which had clogged my musket, and needed the 'worm' (small metal spiral attachment that screws onto the end of the cleaning rods) to work out the doused wadding.]
Took a while to live that one down.