I know it was mean, and for that matter I shouldn't talk--I hadn't had a boyfriend in six months myself. In fact, outside of work the person I saw mos... was Andrea, who had taken to visiting my apartment regularly since I'd broken up with my last boyfriend, Brad. Pot, meet kettle.It was on a night that she was supposed to visit that I saw the teenage girl waiting by the door to my apartment building. She was standing there when I came home from work. She looked like she'd been crying, and as I. Mr. Pitt (OK, Brad, I'm not calling anyone younger than me "Mr.") had written a book on fly fishing in the wake of "A River Runs Through It," and we'd met a couple years before. I got up the nerve to call him and he agreed to fly in on his way to New York for a book-signing event. After we'd finished for the day I suggested stopping at a bar for a few drinks. He demurred, in keeping with his desire not to be mobbed and maintain some semblance of privacy. So we (Brad, me and his bodyguard. More

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