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As I tool around town on errands with infant Stella, I continue to bask in the flood of courtesy from total strangers. They offer seats on benches, they let me cut in line at the ATM, and they hold doors for me.

Most amazing is the attention from women. They approach me and humbly, sweetly, ask permission to see the baby. As long as Stella's head is not rotating like Linda Blair's in "The Exorcist," I'm usually told that I must be a wonderful father. Many of these women are people who would have considered me a harmless nuisance, if not an outright threat if, as a single man, I had so much as cleared my throat in the same supermarket aisle.

Being happily married to the lovely and talented Julia, this phenomenon is of no practical use to me, although I must admit it is a pleasant little curiosity, and lately, it's got me thinking.

So many single men these days complain that it is impossible to meet women. Reviled for being too aggressive, ignored for being too passive, these guys spend upwards of $40 billion (or was it $40 thousand?) annually on self-help materials designed to enable them to start a conversation with a strange woman without a personal introduction and three references. It's enough to make me consider getting into the business.

A quick web search to scope out the competition reveals a booming industry in instructional books and videos, grooming aids, and even pheromones, which, as far as I can tell, are subliminal scents designed to trick women into thinking you're not a total idiot. The usual garbage; nothing even close to my discovery.

My new Homedaddy Method¾ eliminates the need for all that other stuff. Never mind endlessly rehearsing your pickup lines in the mirror; you'll never need them again. Carry an infant with you and be prepared to drop a few bon mots on sexy topics like cradle cap and clogged tear ducts. And forget about pheromones. All those mad scientists are busy fooling around with sex hormones, which only confuse people anyway, when it's really that faint aroma of sour milk and baby pee that really drives Íem wild.

Likewise, all that jazz about grooming and appearance is out the window. Being neat and clean is counter-productive. There's a certain look you're after, a look I call "Slept-Under-The-Train-Trestle." Washing your hair is not advised and shaving more than once a week is strictly verboten. Clothing must be rumpled, and preferably streaked with baby puke. You'll be like the ballplayer with the dirtiest uniform: The fans know you've really been in the game.

These are just the basics. I envision a series of instructional videos, motivational cassettes, seminars, infomercials, and of course, the classic multilevel marketing structure.

Since a real baby may not be practical for many men, I'll need to develop a lifelike latex dummy ("Shhh! Don't disturb her, she's sleeping!") to be used with my own special line of Realbarf¾ clothing enhancer and Diaperscent¾ cologne.

It has to stay centered around newborns and infants, though. One thing my research has shown is that a guy with a new baby is interesting, but a guy with regular old kids is just another delay in the checkout line.

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© Todd Pinsky 1998-2002. All rights reserved.