You answer a knock on your door one Saturday afternoon. Becky from next door is standing there barefoot, just wearing a tank top and cut-offs. "Oh hi there Mister Smilth! My parents are out of town and I was trying to iron this top I have on, but I can't get the gosh darn thing to work! Do you think you might be able to help me?" She stands there blinking stupidly at your doorstep, so you invite her in like a spider to a fly.