Thy sweet self too cruel

There are three rules when it comes talking to women. Number 1, ask questions.  Don't say anything, because women, all they wanna do is talk about themselves so you're just gonna let them do that. 2, be cool; and 3, be kind of a dick. Look, be David Caruso in Jade.
-- Cal in The 40 Year Old Virgin

I went over to Amelia's apartment and took Cal's advice.  And Carlos's.  And Keisha's and Ariel's and just about everyone else's.  I was cool.  Maybe I was even kind of a dick.

Amelia seemed to like it.  If it weren't for the boyfriend, I would definitely be in and even as things are, I still might be.  I left and walked over to my kid's school, where there was a function to get ready for the new year.

On the way, I seemed to be doing very, very well.  Said "hi" (as is my custom) to one pretty girl and got back a very warm "hello there"; I stopped another pretty girl on the pretext of petting her Yorkie (it's a dog, people.  Settle down!) and she was perfectly friendly.

At the school, all the older girls, 14, 15, and up, seemed to cluster around me, shyly letting me tease them.  A vivacious mother I barely knew took me aside, wanted to tell me about her bisexual experience New Year's Eve, only two days back.

Now, this is all useless in a practical sense.  Amelia is a long shot and in any case, I don't want to tangle with her ex-Marine boyfriend.  The oldest girl at the school function who flirted with me was only 17, still jail-bait in California.  The bi mother was legal, of course, but kind of a dumb bunny and besides, my kid was nearby and watching (thank God, out of earshot, but still).  Doesn't matter: the inescapable fact is, these are all very, very good signs.