Fucking Day: 1001 Places to Meet Mr. Right (Patreon)

I love when a woman manages to write a book as desperately horny as any male pick-up artist. There is no illusion of art in the book 1001 Places To Meet Mr. Right. There is no subtlety or cleverness. This is not written for a woman looking to meet her life partner. It’s for a woman who has ingested a poison that can only be cured by dick, and she has 24 hours left to live without the antidote.

To begin, we’re given a rating system for each suggested way of meeting Mr. Right. Stars are used to denote the time required to find Mr. Right. Friends are denoted by telephones, and money is denoted by dollar signs. So if you have no money, friends, or time, you’re stuck meeting a man in sexy places like the hospital cafeteria.

Or a charity haunted house. Most of the time, when you meet a man covered in blood, that’s a red flag, but not at the charity haunted house! Sure, you might not be a hundred percent certain what he looks like under that Michael Myers mask, but at least you know he enjoys holiday shenanigans, and Michael Myers is famously single.

If you want something a little spookier, try the hospital waiting room. Didn’t the book already say hospital cafeteria? Sure, but remember: in this scenario, you are desperate. The dick poison clock is ticking. If the cafeteria is empty, wade further into the hospital, hitting on everything male you see, even if it’s an anatomically correct CPR dummy.

The fantasy scenarios for meeting a man in a hospital waiting room are clumsy sportsman and irresponsible single dad? Can’t we dream bigger? By that I mean some sort of enormous penis injury. Maybe you could meet a man who was running out of a burning building with his hands full of orphans when he tripped over his enormous penis? Dream bigger ladies! Or at least let’s get out of the hospital, please.

Is there a cultural idea that only injured men fall in love? Or is this a situation where the author thinks we’re physically hunting men and the injured ones are easier to capture? The author suggests you have at least two friends for this, but if you have at least two friends, one of them has probably explained to you that your weird obsession with meeting a man at the hospital is creepy. I know 1001 entries is a lot, but there simply cannot be any more about hospitals.

Any hint of illness will make a man so horny, I guess? No one is more ready to fall in love than a man who just put his cat to sleep. Since the entry says you don’t need any money for this, I’m guessing you’re not supposed to bring an animal with you to the vet. You and your one friend just have to explain to the vet that you’re not there for Bingo today, just all of the hot men with sick dogs. The sicker, the better. Elizabeth Shimer Bowers wants a sad man, and she will go to any lengths to find him, even smashing into his car herself.

Only two dollar signs for meeting a man in a car accident? This book was published in 2008, but anything that requires body work is still very much a three-dollar sign meeting. Maybe this is why all of the men at the hospital are so horny: the beautiful women wrecking their cars are getting the men all horned up, but they’re not following through, and other women with even less morals are scooping them up at the hospital. If all of this sounds a little dangerous to you, I should tell you there are some perfectly safe ways to meet Mr. Right.

Make sure there’s a steady supply of blood for unmarried women who might need it. These girls are out here getting in car wrecks, maybe getting mauled by a cheetah at the animal hospital; we need to support them! However, don’t forget if things go really wrong…men are also horny at funerals. That’s not a real suggestion from the book, Lydia, you might be saying, a desperate look in your eye, hope for humanity dying. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s suggestion number two in this damn book. IT’S SUGGESTION NUMBER TWO.

We all know by now that these books typically get weirder the deeper in you go, so tell me how the second entry in this book is a funeral? Number one is a friend's party; number two: if the party goes south, try the funeral. Some of these entries list pros and cons at the bottom, and the pro of a funeral is:

Not anymore, right? It’s not like you can ask for a recommendation. Maybe the handsome man you met at Dave’s funeral is his crazy neighbor who came to spit on his grave. If someone accidentally meets Mr. Right at a funeral, fine, but if you’re trolling funerals for Mr. Right, you’re more likely to find the serial killer the newspapers are calling Mr. Right because he keeps his victims' right hands as a trophy.

You know, with over 1001 entries in this book, there have to be some non-spooky ones. This isn’t called 1001 Death/Sadness/Gore Themed Ways to Meet Mr. Right. It’s great to meet a man at a hospital or a charity haunted house, but you can also meet men somewhere more whimsical, like:

The suggestion is specifically that you tour a pretzel factory, and in the gift shop you will find hungry men buying pretzels. This isn’t a bad idea. Single men can’t feed themselves and therefore rely on factory tours to feed them. The only issue is I don’t know how many pretzel factory tours there are. If the author loves pretzel factory tours so much, maybe she should name five of them.

I obviously looked up the Intercourse Soft Pretzel Factory, since it’s the sexiest pretzel factory on the list, but sadly it closed in 2015. Apparently, Intercourse, PA, is the heart of Amish country, which makes perfect sense; of course, all of the Amish people live in old-timey sex USA. I don’t talk about it a lot, but I actually met my husband at the Intercourse Hard Pretzel Factory, which was later shut down for so many health violations. Are there other food-related places to meet men?

Surely single men eat something other than pretzels? Alternatively, maybe that’s why so many of them end up in the hospital. What is this woman’s diet like? She lists a few restaurants where you can possibly meet Mr. Right, including Hooters and also the rice aisle of the supermarket specifically.

Seems like a pretty thin start to a relationship, but ok, sure. Why not? I want to live someplace warm, and he wants to hold the world record for penguin wrestling, but we can make it work because of our shared love of rice! I don’t think the author of this book understands relationships, but every once in a while she’ll have an entry that makes me realize she does understand men.

Men love a big hill in wintertime. You can’t keep them away. If you’re simply looking for an area densely populated with men, this is your place; however, I worry they’ll be more interested in sledding than meeting a woman. Maybe one of them will get injured, and you can offer to go with them to the hospital where you’re very familiar with the staff for no reason.

So Elizabeth Shimer Bowers does understand a very specific man who loves pretzels, rice, and blood, fake or otherwise. Is she trying to meet Mr. Right or capture the pretzel murderer? The cops call him that because he always leaves traces of cheesy dipping sauce behind at the crime scenes. Hm, I wonder if a crime scene would be a good place to meet a man?

Just think, someday when your grandkids ask, “Where did you and Grandpa meet?” You’ll have to come up with a lie FAST. Gawking at a stabbing is not a valid location for a meet-cute, ladies. There are no pros and cons listed for suggestion number 103, but if I could offer some: CON: killers often return to the scene of the crime. However, you are gawking unhelpfully at a crime scene. He is gawking unhelpfully at a crime scene. You both like gawking unhelpfully at a crime scene-it could be the beginning of a terrifying relationship.

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Thomas Cavazos, who met his wife at a funeral and has been advised by counsel not to elaborate.

You can read this article and every other one on the much better in every way 1900HOTDOG.COM