On October 3rd, We Learn the Power of 'AND'
- Chris
- Oct 3
- 4 min read
Cady Heron is a whiz in math, but she could use a tutor in improv.
Let's set the scene: Cady is new in town, and unassuming circumstances lead her to a chance encounter with a boy who apparently doesn't own a calendar. But beyond this moment's place in the Cinematic One-Liner Hall of Fame, there’s a buried lesson about seizing opportunities—one that’s surprisingly relevant to improv and life.
Honestly, it's impressive that our girl was even able to spit out a single word in front of her crush. But if we take a moment to dissect this brief interaction between Cady and Aaron, we find a missed opportunity that could make their intersecting arcs a lot smoother.
In the broader scope of Cady and Aaron’s individual stories, they both have the same ‘super objective’: to find love and fulfillment. But they have separate objectives in the instance where their story begins.

Aaron’s immediate objective is that he is looking for the date, and Cady’s is that she is looking for a different kind of date. Essentially, he is trying to pass the Calculus quiz, and she is trying to fit in at her new school.
(Side note: I once spelled my own name wrong at the top of a test in high school. Test anxiety is real!)
One thing about improv, and life, is that when we’re less focused on forcing a specific narrative, when we let go of “this is how my story should go,” we can find outcomes that are different from what we imagined—but often better.
In improv, this happens when scene partners get on the same page: by noticing the shared possibilities in each other’s ideas, the story moves forward in a way that serves everyone.
In life, the same principle applies: being open, noticing opportunities, and advancing collaboratively can lead to paths and results we couldn’t have predicted—but that turn out to be exactly what we needed.
Everyone who’s seen Mean Girls knows that the couple’s story ends with an indication that they are on their way to fulfilling their mutual super objective—being a hot couple for a year and then breaking up when they go to separate colleges. Kidding. For the sake of my illustration, let’s say their goal is to find ‘the one’.
But after Cady’s first interaction with Aaron, she waits a long time until things even start to move in the direction she wants.
"Two weeks later, we spoke again”
Before Cady gets her happy ending, the plot goes through a ton of messy ups and downs. In a feature-length movie, there is time for the story to develop. But let’s say this is a live improv scene (or real life), and the actors/individuals are trying to reach the destination with as little turbulence as possible. This pair could skip several layovers and fast-track their cupidified conclusion much faster with one small change.
When the dreamy but somewhat dull Aaron turns around in class to ask Cady what day it is, she clings to safety and just answers the question. She does the polite thing, fulfilling her duty as a helpful classmate—but she doesn’t do anything to improve her own odds.
What she forgot: AND.
If I were Cady, I would answer his question and tag on something else—something that might prompt him to want to talk again...before two weeks go by.
“It’s October 3rd—my dog’s birthday!”
“It’s October 3rd…only 28 days ’til Halloween!”
“It’s October 3rd, which marks 2 months since I moved here from Africa.”
Now, I wouldn’t recommend starting up a whole conversation in the middle of a math test, but you get the idea.
The concept of ‘accepting and advancing’ doesn’t just apply to improv scenes. It doesn’t always serve us personally to simply be a “Yes” person. In life, they say it’s give and take. Well, it just so happens that giving a bit more than you’re asked will usually lead to receiving something in return.
You feel stagnant in your job, and your boss asks you to attend a conference that doesn’t seem exciting. You agree—and use it as an opportunity to network, which leads to you being hired at the company you’ve dreamed of working for.
You’re cast in a role that isn’t the one you wanted. Instead of phoning it in, you lean all the way in: you bring quirks, choices, and presence that elevate the role. In the end, audiences remember you most of all, and you realize this is what you’re best at—leading to a wealth of future work and acclaim.
Maybe your “yes, ands” will prove most effective in your personal life, like Cady.
Agreeing to look after your grandkids one weekend could be the conduit to a new tradition and the mending of a strained relationship.
Engaging in a deep conversation with a stranger at a park may shift your perspective on a topic you’ve been struggling with.
Taking a new fitness class you were unsure about might lead to a breakthrough in your health journey.
Saying yes to things is wonderful. But when we take opportunities beyond what’s been presented, our limit does not exist.




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