How to Be Single by Liz Tuccillo

Serena’s funeral, because she felt centered. Optimistic. Dale had the kids all weekend, so she was free to just be a single person in the world; a single person who was attractive, fun, smart, and truly excited to be alive. How hot must that be? As she rolled by the organic greens, she realized that she didn’t have to believe a single thing that she had ever heard about finding love in New York. There was no reason she had to buy into the belief system that there are no good men left, that the men in New York are all dogs, that every second that ticks by she gets older and less desirable. She didn’t have to believe any of that. Because that was not her experience. She met Dale in New York, at Columbia. She was in grad school for journalism and he was a business major. They had been together ever since. So until she had personally experienced that there were no good men anywhere in the world, she would assume the opposite. As she pushed her cart past the overflowing mountain of cheeses, the French ones, the Italian ones, the ones that come in wheels, the ones from goats, she realized she can simply choose to drive around the entire landfill of presumptions and fears associated with dating in New York. Until it happened to her, none of those stories mattered. She was a blank slate, filled with optimism, unfettered with bitterness; and because of that she felt that she had an edge over most of the single women out there. Men were going to pick up on her joie de dating vivre, and it was going to be irresistible.
    She made one lap around the whole store, taking her time enjoying the tour of healthy food. She was now standing over a row of organic beets, pondering how desirable she was going to seem to all of mankind, when a tall, slim man came up to her. He asked her if she had ever cooked beet greens. She looked up and smiled. He had curly brown hair, parted in the middle with just enough scruff on his face to look sexy, but not as if he was in a band.
    See? she thought to herself. It doesn’t have to be so hard. She then sweetly explained to this cute gentleman that she had, in fact, cooked beet greens, and that they are delicious fried with just some oil, garlic, and salt.
    â€œWow, thanks. I’m trying to cook more, you know? Eat more greens.”
    â€œWell, that’s great. They’re supposed to be very nutritious.”
    Then this cute man smiled at Georgia, a sort of devilish and sheepish smile combined, and added, “How was that for an opening line? I’ve been following you ever since the organic chocolate section but I couldn’t think of anything smart to say. But then you landed in the beets and I thought, Ah! Beet greens! Now that’s a conversation starter!”
    Georgia laughed, blushing, and quickly said, “It was perfect. Didn’t seem forced at all, very natural, yet charming.”
    The cute man extended his hand and said, “Hi, my name is Max.”
    Georgia shook his hand and said, “Georgia, nice to meet you.” And after they talked for about twenty minutes, next to the beets, they made a plan to go out to dinner soon. Georgia left Whole Foods, with three yellow peppers for eight dollars and her newfound optimism validated. She thought to herself, This dating thing is going to be a breeze .

    That night, Alice, our Special Forces of dating, was on her next “op.” His name was Jim and he was a fix-up, from a friend of a friend who had been forwarded the famous Alice Email. The Alice Email was a mass email, similar to what you’d send out to the public at large when looking for a good cat sitter. The Alice Email, however, was about looking for a good man. She sent it to all her friends, and asked them to send it to all of their friends, a sort of viral marketing manhunt. Because of it, she ended up meeting a lot of men she might never have met. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have wanted to meet most of them, but that hadn’t