Just say yes

I'd just finished reading some blurb about this chap Danny Wallace's new book, Yes Man, when my sister rang me. Apparently Danny had finally snapped out of a long period of social isolation and self-loathing by acquiescing to every "favour, request, suggestion and invitation", after allegedly meeting some old codger on the last bus home who sagely advised him to "Say Yes more". So he did, and his life turned around in all sorts of positive ways. Obviously a load of shite, but it's a great idea for a book, and it's selling by the truckload so good luck to him. Anyway, I thought I'd give it a lash for the crack and see what happened.

"So, do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow?" my sister asked as we were about to ring off.

Tomorrow? Do I want to meet for lunch tomorrow? Hmmm. Probably not, in all fairness. Have two DVDs to watch and a new book to get stuck into, so it's gonna be a late one. "Say Yes more."

"Yeah, sure. What time?"

"I've a meeting at two, so, say 12.30?"

Shit. In town for 12.30 means getting up at 11. At the latest. Parking around there is a bitch as well, which means a long walk up to her office. Probably be raining too. And I've no loose change for the poxy machine, which means making a pit stop along the way. "Say Yes more."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good. See you then."

"Hi, how are you?" my sister said as she descended the steps of her office building.

"Alright," I said in my customarily morose manner. "And you?"

"Great," she said, a little too chirpily for my liking. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't mind," I said accommodatingly, trying to be positive.

"How about Café Sol so?"

Shit. Can't stand the place – bastards never rotate the stock when they're refilling the fridge; takes me an hour to find a suitably chilled Diet Coke. "Say Yes more."

"Yeah, that's grand."

"Would you like to support ––––––––?" the fashionably scruffy teenager enquired as we rounded the corner, shaking his 10-litre capacity bucket at me.

I would, yeah. But I'd rather walk around to their office and give them €2 in person so I'd know it didn't get diverted into your beer fund when you meet up with your mates at the end of the day to take your cut before handing in the balance. "Say Yes more."

"Yeah, sure thing," I said breezily, dropping my ?2 through the fist-sized aperture in the lid.

"You're fierce easy-going today," sis remarked as we took our seat in Café Sol, and I proceeded to take a sip of my allegedly chilled beverage, which in actuality was probably warmer than her coffee.

"It'll pass, don't worry. I'm trying out saying yes to everything. Supposed to improve your quality of life no end," I explained.

"I see. And how's it working out? You feeling good?" she asked sincerely.

"Not particularly. It's a whole new paradigm shift for me though, so it'll probably take a while for the happy vibes to kick in. I'll keep you posted."

On the way home, Declan rang me, inviting me out to his place for dinner. Bit of chat and another meal taken care of without depleting my stock of Tesco Finest – what's not to like?

"Yeah, sure thing, see you later."

That was easy enough. Maybe this saying yes lark wasn't so bad after all.

"Carrots."

"Yeah, loads thanks." I love carrots. Easy peasy lemon squeezy – I'm feeling great now. Good man Danny.

"Parsnips?"

I don't think so – haven't eaten parsnips in about 20 years. "Say Yes more."

"Go on so, just a few."

Gak – just like I remembered. Still, at least I'd said yes.

"So how do you fancy babysitting for us next Saturday?" Declan casually threw into the postprandial banter.

Not a lot, to be honest with you. Kids are like parsnips – a taste every now and then is alright, but I couldn't eat a whole one. "Say Yes more."

"Yeah, no problem."

"God, that was easy. Must ask you more often."

"You got me on a good day. I'm trying out this new thing, saying yes to everything instead of no. Supposed to make you feel better about your life and what have you."

"Well, let's face it, you need to try something. How's it going?"

"Can't see it lasting."

Next day, at something like 9.20 (in the morning!), the phone rang.

"Hello, can I speak to the person who pays the telephone bill please?"

"You are."

"Oh great. I'm calling from Tele2, and I'd just like to tell you about how you can make significant savings on your telephone bill?"

"No thanks."

God, that felt good.