“No pretty girl will talk to you!”

“You look familiar,” I said to a pretty young girl at my nearby Petco. “I think you’re a store-employee.”
“Killian!” she shrieked. I always take my dog into Petco. “He’s such a ham!”
What’s notable here is Yrs Trly initiated a conversation with a pretty young girl. Ten years ago I woulda avoided her.
I’m a graduate of the Hilda Q. Walton School of Gender Relations.
“No pretty girl will talk to you!”
If I learned anything at all since my wife died, Hilda and my hyper-religious parents were full-of-it.
A year-or-two after my wife died, I inadvertently began befriending various ladies.
Then a pretty lifeguard at my local YMCA swimming-pool said hello to me by name. I later cranked up the nerve to say hello back.
Ten years ago I couldna done that.
I thereby spun Faire Hilda in her casket. 14,000 rpm, etc., etc.
I can imagine Hilda labeling my many female friends “sluts.”
WRONG. No sluts for this kid!
Hilda and my parents are history. I’ve made too many female friends, and I like it.

• A recent crotch-rocket motorcycle might be capable of 14,000 rpm. A Detroit V8 will start tearing itself apart at 8,000 (if it gets there).