CoolGirl and I were getting ready to go and meet friends for a Sunday brunch at News Cafe on Ocean Drive, a biweekly tradition among a group of us to catch up on what's been going on in our lives (and for others, a chance to eat some scrumptious hangover cures).

We had reached the six-month point in our relationship and we were coming close to the point where parentals, cousins and other family members become more interested in meeting this latest person in your life. Let's face it, six months these days is a pretty big accomplishment for singles.

By around six months in a relationship, you've slipped into more of a comfort zone and even some basic bathroom etiquette has vanished. You may find yourself talking to your significant other through a closed bathroom door. Not all the time, but in case of emergency (or when you can't find a corkscrew in the kitchen.)

At the same time, we were still cautiously gathering information about each other. You think you know someone, when actually you may have no idea. The more time you spend with someone, and frequent their residence, the more you pick up on habits, tendencies and styles. And jumping to conclusions could creep its ugly head.

When guys gather that info, we don't analyze too much. For us, it's pretty much black or white. We can shrug things off, or choose to debate. For a woman, it's a different story. As she gathers information, there is plenty of analysis (usually later with girlfriends) in shades of gray, with the focus of a forensics unit.

So when from beyond the bathroom door in my apartment I heard her say, ''Ummm, babe, I found a note . . . from a girl,'' I knew we were going to be tardy to brunch.

Now this note was found on the heels of CoolGirl spotting a lone earring the night before that didn't belong to her. She had seen it a week before but never said anything. In fact, I didn't even know it was laying beside a stack of dusty magazines in a dark corner of my apartment until she pointed it out. It remained a mystery, but now that a note had surfaced, I figured it would return as admissible evidence.

CoolGirl opened the bathroom door and I walked in. She pointed out the note. It had been left in the back of my medicine cabinet. What she was doing digging through there I had no idea, but I figured I wouldn't ask.

As I reached for the note, I raced through a list of possible suspects who could have planted this in my bathroom. No one fit the profile.

As I opened the note, I took a quick glance at CoolGirl, her eyebrow arched like an inspector, but she was calm like a puma before striking. Was I going to be able to introduce CoolGirl to my Floridian cousins after this note incident? I mean I was already talking to this woman through a closed bathroom door, but this discovery could be disaster.

As I read the note, there was nothing to worry about. It was from our mutual friend Marsha, who had stayed at my place while I was away before I met CoolGirl. The surprise note had been hidden very well, and it also explained the earring.

Crisis averted. Case solved. Bring on brunch.

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