Babe Undercover

My mom says I should rethink that post I did a couple weeks ago about how frumpy I can be. It makes me sound unattractive. So, for the record, I submit the following:
1. I've looked very cute in much of the clothing I've worn lately. Cute enough to receive genuine compliments from both men & women.
2. I am an uber-hottie who has no business dwelling on earth with mere mortals, who inevitably look wilted and pathetic when stood next to the heat stroke-inducing light of my otherworldly pulchritude.
Now that I've cleared that up, I can tell you about last week's incident.

Around 10:45, my roommate, A, calls and tells me she's at a bus stop 5 minutes from our house and is waiting for the next bus to bring her the rest of the way home. Knowing she doesn't like hanging out in that neighborhood at night, and it could be a half-hour till the next bus comes, I ask if she wants me to pick her up, because I'm cool like that. She says she's OK.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh, do you mind?"
So I go pick her up, which is no big deal. Except I'm almost in bed. I have on mismatched pajamas, a huge robe, slip-on sneakers, my hair pulled back with this huge head-band thing, and -- the crowning touch -- a bright-green avacado mud masque all over my face. I'm all Mission:Impossible getting to my car, making sure no traffic is going by and no neighbors are out before I dart across the street to where I'm parked.
I make it just fine. My roommate laughs out loud at me when she gets in the car, declaring that I'm now promoted from Friend to Mom.
We get back and I park the car. I'm not so lucky this time, as a car or two drives by while I'm standing there, a Vision in Comfortable Clothing. A gets a better look at me and begins breaking down the faux pas (does this have a plural form?). "Oh, that hair thing. And the shoes! I won't be seen in public with you in those shoes."
"Yeah, A, the shoes are the worst part of this ensemble."
All this is going on while some poor guy from the neighborhood walks by. I must have looked like a slumber party reject.
Later, when another roommate came home, she said, "I always get dressed before I drive in case I'm in an accident." Oh, I hadn't even thought of that. Now I'm imagining having to stand around some accident scene, surrounded by police, with green goop on my face. I'd be beet red beneath the goop.
I didn't dwell on that thought too long. Instead I'm posting it here, where it can last forever. Sorry, Mom. But you can take comfort in the fact that stuff wouldn't be half as funny if I didn't clean up so darn well ;-).