Attached at the hip to theme of lightness this year for me is saying yes. Becoming a sort of “yes-woman” (have you all seen the Jim Carey movie Yes Man? Go see it.). So far, here are my trials and tribulations.

Exhibit A:

Walk into La Fromagerie, a) because it’s called La Fromagerie (it’s a cheese shop, ladies and gents…need I say it again? Cheese.) b) because a cute man is behind the counter every morning and you’ve been wanting to talk to him c) you’re too early for work.

As I’m approaching the storefront, I see a kind man give a homeless man an espresso. Aww…now that’s sweet. It’s the same guy that works behind the counter. Hey, heart strings.

Ask the man a question, anything.
Me: Do your salads change? That duck salad sounds great.
Him: (in a very French accent. Really?! C’mon…) Yes? Vellll I zoo not receive my food shipment unsill uhhh…ten dirty, eleven o’clock.
Me: Oh okay, tomorrow then! (not quite sure what he meant as it’s not even 8am)
Him: Okay? Have a good day! (Non question statements often sound like questions in a French accent. It’s adorable.)

Shoot. The man thinks I want a duck salad for breakfast. Lunch. I should have specified that I was interested in the salad for lunch.

Well…yes-woman fail. But hey, I put myself out there, even if it’s as the woman who wants smoked duck breast and kale at 7:45am. He’s French – didn’t he grow up eating fois gras at dinner? Bottle-fed Burgundy? P’tit Basque as a fifth course?

Either way, I’m happy I went in just to put my face in front of those baby blues. I’ll be back. After 10:30am, of course.

Exhibit B:

See cute bartender during happy hour and somehow start chatting about pistachios. Upon paying the bill, leave pistachios you coincidentally bought that day at a farmer’s market.

Return solo, and accept that you’re either the bitch that made him spill pistachios all over the bar, or, you’re awesome and pretty quick on your toes.

Things I (over)thought about being a solo female bar patron:
1. I started by appearing busy. Don’t grab smartphone. Reach for journal, paper, a napkin. Anything that isn’t a device. You are a woman with many interests and talents. Maybe you even write in cursive, how exotic.
2. Okay, then maybe bring out the phone. You’re at a bar, alone. Maybe this makes you look like you have plans later. Even if that plan is to check a few emails, do some laundry, maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don’t know, I don’t know if we’ll have enough time (Frank the Tank, help me out here).
3. Drink slowly so you’re not that floozy (aka My Idol). Okay not too slowly.
4. Chat with bartender. This is why you’re here. Stop smiling while gracefully pouring wine quick-slowly into your mouth. It does not look sexy, though major props for trying. I take it back, J, you’re killing it.
5. Ask a question, any question…hey, why is that bourbon called Baby Bourbon?Smmoooottthhh.
6. When getting up to leave, try to be semi-subtle about your green and white stripped bag full of farmer’s market goodies because a) you’d just come from the market the last time you were here b) it’s a very large bag and you risk bumping into your gossip girls to both the right and left of your 6″ wide opening you’re backing out of and c) at least pretend you totally got this. (Are we having fun with these videos yet? Great. Because it totally took me about four sittings to complete this post)

My yes-woman attitude is 0-2 so far, ladies and gents, but I’m making strides and putting myself out there – even if that means eating duck salad for breakfast and wine and baby bourbon for dinner. For me – it’s all about doing everything I can to go for something or someone and if at the end of the day, they get to see my true (and maybe slightly awkward) self, then all the better. This is me, this is what you get, and if someone sees and likes that right off the bat, we’re going to be just fine.

I can’t think of anyone better to put the cherry on top than my idols’ rendition of a classic Starship song. Get. Ready.