Can I bring my knitting to the sports bar?

Preface: WC is not my boyfriend. For reasons and explanations I'll keep to myself, we are dating, but non-exclusively... I have little reason to believe this will change in the near future. And thus...
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Just for giggles (or because I've been too upbeat after that funeral I went to yesterday), I Googled "where to meet men."My results included articles in Cosmo, Ladies Home Journal, a feminist site called "All Women Stalk," and 1.1 billion other links to what can only be assumed to be quality advice.

Here are my efforts so far (online profiles excluded because they're not remotely entertaining until you've actually met a man who wears ski pants on the first date):

1. Cooking Class.  I did it. I took a 3 session cheese making class because how could I go wrong with a man who loves cheese? And it started off promising as there was a very hot young nurse in my first class...  but he failed to show up the for the other 2 classses. But now I can make cheese. Cheese even my BFF refuses to try, but it's good and I haven't murdered anyone who has tried it yet.

2. Doctor Who ring tone. I'm not kidding that the thought has crossed my mind that my phone will ring, a nearby stranger will think "Is that the Doctor Who theme song from the 2008 series?... Why yes, it is... That girl is cute... we should mate." This has not yet worked especially since I turn off the ringer a lot so as to not annoy people, but it could work...

3. Band tshirts. I used to think that wearing band tshirts would get me a good indie-rock loving dude and while it did sometimes, I'd find myself with guys who loved indie-rock and working in record stores part time while they pursued their punk band career which really just looked like smoking a lot of weed in the basement and writing love songs. At 35, I think I own one band-shirt and it has armpit stains so I just wear it to bed. But I think the theory is the same. My man-to-be is going to see my striped knee socks/leg warmers and want to hump me! Does this happen ever in real life?

4. I eat alone a lot. Is it because I usually bring a book with me that makes this not work? Or is it because I go to the notoriously gay restaurants and sit at the bar while the bartenders sexually harass each other and make me spit salad out my nose from laughter. It's probably that. But I do believe that someday a nice hetero will see me from across the bar with my book and the lettuce hanging out of my nose and say "Hey, I'm straight too. Wanna make out?" And then we will.

5. Coffee Shops. Because I work from home a lot (or used to) I love to take my "office" to the local coffee shop and imagine that one of these handsome graphic designers might actually be employed AND straight AND interested in making out with the only one in the room not working on an Apple product. (For the record, based on the 3 links I clicked during my research, the #1 recommended spot for meeting people is the Apple store. Really?) I'm not anti-Apple, but my corporate gig hands out Dells.

Anyway, I make up fake little romances with my coffee shop friends.

Original FB post by me in 2010: 

"Said "bless you" to the guy next to me at the coffee shop when he sneezed. We had a moment. He sneezed again and then looked at me expecting his blessing. I withheld so he didn't think I was easy. I'm a lady, dammit. I think this is going really well." 

And then it progressed: 

6. Long walks in the park. Has anyone ever actually met at the park? I like to think this could happen, but I find parks to be just creepy enough that if someone started chatting me up I'd likely assume he was a rapist and run away blowing my whistle. (I don't actually have a whistle. I should get one. New plan: maybe I'll meet a man while I'm BUYING my whistle!) But I do go there and take walks and plan my life with the handsome jogger who keeps lapping me. And then sometimes I think maybe I'll just get a dog instead of a boyfriend.  A dog would definitely like going to the park with me.

7. Yoga. This is possibly one of my stupider ideas about where I'll meet a man because for years I had blinded myself to men even existing in yoga so I wouldn't accidentally glimpse a package in man-panties. And then I noticed one. A man... not his junk. He wore basketball shorts and had good hair. And he'd remember my name. And sometimes the class would be so full that our mats would be just inches apart and after a particularly hard class, when we were both sweating and panting, I'd pretend it was because we were naughty and not because we just did 100 pushups or something ridiculous like that. Then I ran into him at the asian place right next door after class once and I was suuuuper excited that he might ask me to join him, but then he called his girlfriend to see what she wanted. Bitches.

Also, I'm told by some reliable sources that I sweat more than any person they've ever known. I'm lead to believe that might not be as sexy as I'd like it to be.

8. Etc Alone. I do all sorts of stuff alone so as to not frighten the timid man away from me and my hen sisters while we're clucking. Cluckers are we. (Really I do stuff alone because I like to just do stuff and not stay home, but the thought crosses my mind that my soulmate might also think Pridefest is a great place to pick up heterosexuals.)

And so it is with much hope that I continue to search. And I know it's important to just put myself out there, so I do. But out there sucks and requires me to be polite and wear make-up so sometimes out there just gets regular me without a bra and in yoga pants; and while regular me is fine once I've trapped a man with my wit and charm, it doesn't tend to reel them in. Because if you've forgotten, I don't have game. I have a sweaty ass.

But maybe I will start perusing the sports bars this winter. As written in the Frisky by John Devore, "Where to Meet Men":

I imagine if you want to meet men, you should go to those places where men hang out. Chainsaw Shack. Bacon Depot. The Beer Spa. If you wander into a sports bar and you’re not a sports fan, just remember two things: A) clap when the guy you’re into claps, and 2) watching sports is not unlike watching a ceiling fan go ‘round and ‘round. Just stare and let the noise and men in tight pants hypnotize you. If you’re interested in hipsters, you can hit up any bar that looks like a 1920s’ soda fountain. Just stroll in, order a craft beer, and turn to the first moustache and say, “This place was cooler, like, five years ago.” 

I wonder if it still works if I bring knitting with me. I find sports to be so fucking boring.