Yes Man
How a movie scene sparked an unforgettable adventure.
It started with a rare gift: a free weekend. No kids at home, no family obligations, and no deadlines waiting to ambush us when we looked away. Just four days wide open, like a story that begged to be written. We didn’t want to waste it, and we needed to satisfy that old, familiar feeling of wanderlust.
So we said yes.
There’s a scene in the movie Yes Man where Jim Carrey and Zoe Deschanel walk up to the counter and ask for a ticket on the next flight out. No plan, no hesitation, just pure spontaneity. My wife and I looked at each other and realized there was no reason we couldn’t do the same thing.
There was only one rule: No California, Arizona, or Utah.
We wanted out of our usual orbit, out of the Southwest, out of the familiar terrain where every street feels like home
We packed for all climates, throwing jackets, jeans, swim trunks, and sandals into two carry-ons. Then we headed straight to LAX, walked up to the American Airlines counter, and said exactly what we came to say.
“We want to take the next plane out of here.”
The agent gave us a look like we had just asked for a ticket to Mars. She tapped her keyboard, checked a few schedules, then said, “The next flight leaves in twenty minutes. It’s going to Iowa.”
Tempting. But we weren’t clearing and TSA and getting to the gate in twenty minutes.
“What’s after that?” we asked.
She smiled. “New York.”
Done.
We booked the tickets and boarded the afternoon flight. When we landed at JFK, it was almost midnight. We hadn’t booked a hotel, so we grabbed a taxi and said, “Times Square,” because it was the only landmark that made sense that late at night, and suffering from jet lag.
We scrolled through hotel apps from the backseat and landed a room at a budget hotel a few blocks from the neon chaos. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t spotless, but it was good enough for one night.
The next morning, we upgraded to the Moxy. It had clean sheets, strong coffee, and views of the city that made us feel like we were in the opening credits of a movie.
We spent the next three days exploring like tourists and honeymooners at the same time. We took in the skyline from the top of the Empire State Building. We grabbed last-minute Broadway tickets and watched a show. We rode a horse-drawn carriage through Central Park, the clop of hooves echoing between the skyscrapers.
At one point, we decided to brave the subway. Within minutes, we figured out we were going the wrong direction. We didn’t panic, just got off at the next stop, and headed the other direction. We popped up in Brooklyn, found a brewery, chatted with the locals, drank cold beer, and let the day slow down. Later, we rode the train to Coney Island, ate Nathan’s hot dogs on the boardwalk, and stood barefoot on the beach, letting the Atlantic wind slap our faces awake. No New Yorkers were getting in the water, but we didn’t care.
On our last morning, we planned a picnic in Central Park. New York answered with rain. Not a storm, just a soft drizzle, like the city didn’t want to let us leave without a proper goodbye. We grabbed a pizza and a bottle of Prosecco, found shelter beneath a tree, and laid down a piece of cardboard like a picnic blanket, and ate our farewell meal with soggy shoes and full hearts.
Sometimes the best experiences in life aren’t the ones we plan. They’re the ones we stumble into when we take a leap of faith and say yes. Yes to uncertainty, yes to discomfort, and yes to whatever waits on the other side of that ticket counter. You don’t need a plan or a spreadsheet or a perfectly curated itinerary. Sometimes all you need is a blank weekend, a packed bag, and the guts to walk into an airport and say, “Next flight out.”
Great to have adventures, isn't it?
Good stuff.
Iowa had something waiting for you as well.