Why is it that when a woman of reasonable attractiveness, intelligence and personality wants a man--when she lets down her bait into rivers that seemingly teem with men--she seldom gets a strong enough hook into one to reel him in? Many nibble, but generally the bait is stolen and the fish swim away.

At least nature provides an analogy for that. What the fishing experience doesn't allow for is the converse: When a woman (the same one of reasonable attractiveness and so on) does not want a man, is thoroughly fed up with the bunch, has resigned herself to becoming a fiercely ambitious career type content without one--why is it that then fish leap from the water, fly through the air, land on her doorstep and squirm feebly, gasping her name with their few remaining breaths?

The Golden Rule: Do not, I repeat, do not appear very anxious to reel one in. It makes fish jumpy. Let your line down over the side real calmlike, lie back with a hat cocked over your eyes and pretend to snooze (without ever taking your eyes off the sinker, of course). The fish will play around the bait and watch you to make sure you aren't watching them. They'll tug a bit, but if you make one fast move, they are gone like a flash. So you wait; when a good one comes along, let him see you "sleeping." When he is convinced of your disinterestedness, he'll bite real good. Then you snatch him up!

For those who really would rather not be bothered (and I wholeheartedly espouse your sentiment), the best thing I can tell you is to just pretend you're husband-hunting. That's a surefire man repellent. If the thought of that disgusts you--and, I'll admit, it does me--then you either have to go into hiding or act like an eccentric. Or resign yourself to the quirks of nature and realize that you'll be pursued by men for exactly as long as you don't want to be. Realize that the minute you start enjoying it and showing some interest in being captured by a pursuer, the hunt ends and the hunters withdraw.

If I can realize this and not become (very) bitter about it, anyone can. After all, I'm only 21. I probably have longer to contend with the sobering truth than many of you. There is definitely something to be said for rose-colored glasses and being disillusioned later in life. If you're, say, 40 and your husband of 20 years just ran off with someone my age--be glad you had 20 years' worth of relationship, and I'll be glad I'm not the someone my age your husband ran off with. She will soon find out what we already know.

Wouldn't that make your day? Come to think of it, it would make mine too. When it happens, let's do lunch.