No pants at the tire Shop and movie Theater

"I was standing in line at a tires store counter trying to pay for an oil change. The guy behind the register kept typing on his keyboard and wasn't handing me my receipt, so I looked down to check if I had my card out and realized I was only wearing a white t-shirt and white socks. No pants, no underwear, nothing. Nobody in the waiting room was staring or pointing, they were all just looking at their phones or reading magazines. I didn't feel panicked or ashamed, I was just intensely bothered by the logistics of it—like how did I drive all the way across town, walk through the parking lot, and hand over my keys without realizing I didn't put pants on this morning? I reached into my shirt pocket to see if I had a spare pair folded up in there, which obviously made no sense, but I kept checking anyway. Then I was suddenly sitting in the back row of a crowded movie theater eating popcorn. I still didn't have pants on, but my legs were cold from the air conditioning blowing directly on my knees. A woman two seats over asked me to pass her the salt and I couldn't figure out if she was being nice or if she was going to report me to the usher. I just sat there holding a greasy cardboard tub against my lap, trying to remember what movie we were watching. Woke up confused and immediately pulled the blanket over my legs."