I have a crush on my bank teller. Her name is Pegeen. Irish.

Pegeen is what is known as "a wife and mother." On her little patch of desk there's a plastic-framed snapshot of herself, her law-clerk husband, and her two clean kids. She's also what I call a Sloopy ("Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on!")—precisely the type of adorably hot little proletarian kissy-face my snobby Mother shielded me from all those years.

But there's a spooky make-up detail that never fails to throw me: she doesn't seem to recognize own lip line. She paints a totally other-shaped lip on top of her real one. Why would a girl do that?

According to Sissy, who checked her out at my request, it's obvious: in her natural state, Pegeen has "slut lips," and she's trying to signal, with the prim overlay, that she's not that kind of girl.

Baba knew that.