Wooing Juan Valdez would be tricky, but my methodical approach would prove genius. I am, after all, a master at the art of love. I know the way to win a man’s heart, despite my single status and the streak of bad luck with dating that I’ve had for the past… okay, fine. I’m not a maestro of love. But this time would be different. There’s more than one way to get a man, and I planned to attack from all sides.

The first night of ‘Operation Woo Juan’ I left some red roses on his car seat. Not a great idea. Especially since I’d forgotten to remove the thorns and he sat on them. Time for plan B. So after he went to bed the next night, I snuck over to wash and wax his Smart Car, tying a large heart shaped Mylar balloon to the antennae, just to be sure he got the message. Then I would leave a giant bag of gourmet coffee on his front porch. A few weeks of my subliminal pampering would certainly forge the fires of love that would ignite into a raging inferno of passion when I finally asked him out.

Meanwhile I prepared diligently for our next face to face encounter. Nothing would be left to chance. I purchased a dress online from SassySenoritas.com—a red gown covered in ruffles and black polka dots. Every day for an hour I practiced my Flamenco and Lambada steps. I even looked into renting a bull for an impromptu matador demonstration, but had to nix the idea when I learned bulls couldn’t be litter box trained.

The ‘cooty graw’--what a silly expression--would be my prepared speech. I would compliment his manly physique and ask him to coffee, all in perfect Spanish. He’d be down on that knee proposing in no time. I would be like Rico Suave, but with boobs. After composing my charming dialogue, I grabbed the trusty laptop and found an online translator to convert my word treasure into a bouquet of verbal Latin elegance.

I pasted my pick-up lines in the input window and read it back. “Your shirt is sexy, and I love your shoes. I want to know you better. Would you like to have coffee?” Oh yeah, schmooze him with flattery, and then ask him out. Perfecto! (Wow, the Spanish language is practically second nature to me already…)

While I waited for the translator to do its magic, I went to the kitchen to brew my usual mid-mid-morning pot of coffee. As I emerged from the kitchen with a cup of properly doctored Kona blend, I discovered one of the ferrets sitting on my laptop keyboard.

“No, Jitters! Bad ferret!” As I lunged to scoot him out of the way, he pried the F1 key off with his teeth and danced away, chuckling in victory. Beans took advantage of his brother’s naughty distraction by dunking his face in my mug and taking a forbidden gulp as I chased down the key bandit.

But even feisty ferret antics would not derail my locomotive of destiny. Wrestling the key away from the wriggly thief, I returned to the laptop. Popping F1 in place, I studied the translation. The vocal simulator read it aloud, and I mimicked the robo-voice, again and again until I could recite it without assistance.

I was almost ready now.

The glorious day had arrived. I spent the morning preparing for the big event, dressed in my fancy gown and practicing my dances of courtship. Like a stage performer, I recited my lines, focused on perfecting my impressive accent. I watched his house like a hawk until I finally saw him emerge, and then proceeded to make my entrance.

I tripped over the dress as I descended the steps of my front porch, but I was really graceful about it and managed to make it look like part of a fancy dance move. Throwing both hands above my head, I snapped my fingers and sang, “Olay!”

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