We're going to come out of this pool of cess and dry off for a bit. Let's sit here, on the side of the pool, and dry off in our suits. Sun's out. It's hot out. And it's bright. Sometimes it can be overcast and bright, but then it's usually not hot.

And who exactly goes for swims in the middle of Spring anyway? What? Fairly common? Ok, was just informed that Spring is a fairly common time to be headed for a swim. Why don't I know even the most common of facts. I think somewhere along the way, within the past 3 years, my knowledge of common, absolutely fundamental facts of life have completely escaped me.

For instance, the other day when I was speaking with a cashier at a sandwich shop down the street, and she gave me a compliment. Compliments don't usally fly out of strangers mouths at me. They might for you, but not for me, this happening was worthy of note.

I bought my sandwhich from her, she even made it, and she put it in the tiny bag, I don't know where I'd put the chip bag, and then after she told me the price of the combo, and before I gave her my card, she gave me a compliment. She was a sexy woman, ebony skin and nice firm plump lips that shaped a gorgeous smile, nice shiny white teeth and pretty hair. And she gave me a compliment. Here's what she said.

'That shirt looks good on you.'

Yes. Jackpot, right? For '3-years-ago-Justin,' that compliment leads to the baby-makin' dance. You know the one. Well, maybe you don't, but YOU might. There you are. Oh, you parents out there, for sure, you guys def know what I'm spittin'. Because you've had the baby, after you've had the baby-makin' dance. Us non-baby-makers, we might know the dance, but not like YOU guys know it. You guys execute it like you're storming the beach at Normandy. There's a goal. A mission. People know their routes, their placements, their positions. You're yelling orders at one another.

It's a little different for me. I just usually walk around aimlessly with my loaded semi-automatic rifle, short-stock, semi-automatic rifle, cuppin' my hand to my eyes to shield them from debris and sprays, and I usually end up on my back, gun-less, with my spent cartridge in my hand. Someone's usually above me somewhere, laughing.

But I've read about makin' babies, and after a compliment like the one she gave me, I'd have to say, '3-years-ago-Justin', he'd be all over it, up in that and all around it, right there on the meat slicer, or lettuce hole, or tomato cavern. Just rippin' clothes off in front of the other slicers, tearin' into each other, hot and steamy and with mayo on the side. Or on top, depending on the preference of the, ya know, the person.

But 'Today-Justin', he's clueless. I mentally passed up so many regular, quick-guy retorts, feeling they were too 'easy,' I literally played out 12 of them in my brain space, and they all played out too 'easy.' I then realized that I better come up with something quick, besides an 'awe-shucks-look-down-at-my-feet-and-blush' move, so, I came up with a line that just popped in there, Ghostbusters-style. Following me? 'When someone asks you if you're a God, you say...YES.' Brilliance abounds in that film.

Back to me and my life. Geesh, you're so selfish, stop reading about Ghostbusters lines.

Here's the line I return-fired at the African Princess: 'It'd look better on your bed-pole.'

'Today-Justin,' folks. Take a bow. He's not got a full batch in the oven. One egg short of the pound, one fork shy of the parking lot.

In conclusion, let's huddle-up here before we break for the day: The girl at Jersey Mike's on Wilshire is a real floosey.

Because my 'bed-pole' line did work, in a round-about-way. She giggled at the ridiculousness of it and THEN I did the 'awe-shucks-look-down-at-my-feet-and-blush' move and it made all the difference.

All about timing and placement of the move.

That's what she said. Okay, enough.

Looks like we're back in the pool of cess again. I don't even think my suit dried out fully before I got right back in.