Places I'd Actually Like to Meet the Man of My Dreams (And Probably Have Better Odds Of Doing So)
Every woman (well, most) has a secret or not-so-secret dream location for meeting her Fairy Prince, her Sir OKCupid-a-Lot, Her Knight in Shining Armani.
For Mindy Kaling, that place is the Empire State Building, a place so romantic, it is home to many proposals, proposal videos, ideas for proposals, and those face-shaped metal looking glasses that expire after five minutes with a quarter and get all infuriatingly blurry. You’re just trying to see the beauty of Staten Island from where you’re standing, atop a giant, glorious building.
(This is also the setting for the apex of Romantic Movie of the Century, Sleepless in Seattle. When I watch older romantic movies like that, I just wish for a cellphone or Grindr or not writing your phone number in the inside of a book, SERENDIPITY, and just leaving love up to fate. Fate, really, romantic comedies and weird teen movies? Maybe if you look like Kate Beckinsale, or maybe you’ll just have a life full of cats and Words with Friends. Internet friends.)
Mindy Kaling isn’t alone in this wild dream of romance. You’ve definitely thought about your ideal meet-cute, where you bump / collide / fall into the man of your dreams. Maybe you knock into each other in matching neon at a Passion Pit concert, and debate until the wee hours of the morning who discovered the band first (neither of you, I did, or so did every angry hipster before you).
Maybe you’ll meet him or her in line waiting for tickets to a Broadway play, and you will spend the rest of your lives singing show tunes and annoying everyone else with your couples reenactments of Spring Awakening. (Honestly, Jessica and Sam, every time we have a wine night I don’t need to hear how you learned some new Wicked choreography.)
However, there are several missing meet-cutes, or dream locations where I’d personally like to meet a guy. (Besides that small town in the South of France, J’Date.) Enough with the flowers and ponies and falling off the Dawson’s Creek dock into his arms.
Rite Aid / Duane Reade / Walgreens / CVS
Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like I should be investing in CVS stock, or just handing over piles of money to every nonexistent cashier in the self-checkout line. If you’re a neurotic person such as myself, there are endless, endless, excuses to go to one of said pharmacies.
Maybe you need your medication. And then you need to go back because you forgot your other medication. And your Crest White Strips, because you have that awesome coupon and they’re a bazillion dollars without it. I could walk to Rite Aid blindfolded and spin around a baseball bat like that miserable kids game I always refused to participate in because it is so. Damn. Neauseating. I’d still come out with everything (minus one thing, because then I need an excuse to go back), and three new coupons, suckers.
The point is, find a fellow hypochondriac freaking out and getting a flu shot.
How cute would that be? You can spend your nights WebMD’ing each other, or take turns like new parents for chewable vitamin c gummie runs (I think I need to be on My Strange Addiction for this. I can’t stop eating them. They’re snacks, right?) I spend so much time in the cold aisle or traipsing around trying to find the specific bobby pin I like, I’d love to meet a guy who is also making it rain Extra Bucks in the club (card).
That being said, I once went on a date with a guy who didn’t have any sort of pharmacy loyalty card. (Lord knows how this even came up in conversation.) So like, he’s been going to Duane Reade for years, and just ignored the specials and rewards, every, single, time. Red flag.