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July 17, 2009

Where The Guys Are

best cities for singles

Photo Credit: Greg Kessler

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The only cowboys you'll find here are the football players. The Silicon Prairie is loaded with swaggering preps who bank serious coin and aren't shy about throwing it around. Date nights are big to-dos here—he makes reservations, dresses up, even checks in with Mama on logistics. Honey, get used to it—he checks in with her on everything.

"The cutest guys in Dallas are cowboy-boot-wearing preps—a little bit country, a little bit city." -Anne, 27

His haunts: The patio at Ozona's for the drink specials; The Dubliner or Barcadia; The Granada Theater (Grizzly Bear and Fischerspooner were recent headliners); the Katy Trail uptown; the dog run near White Rock Lake; mornings at the Crooked Tree Coffeehouse; Late Nights at the Dallas Museum of Art; game night at The MAT (McKinney Avenue Tavern).

His threads: Made in the USA—head-to-ankle J.Crew, Durango cowboy boots.

His ride: The latest Ford pickup, its bumper appropriately muddy after a weekend of fishing stripers on Lake Whitney with the guys.

Your prep: Bigger is always better in D-Town, so hit the salon for the Miss America special: highlights, a blowout (don't be shy with the hairspray), and an allover airbrush tan.

Keep in mind: iPhone's Loopt app—like Facebook with GPS so you know where folks in your set are at all times—is the biggest thing to hit the singles scene since ladies' night.

Pickup line: "Want to mess with Texas?"

It's true what they say: Appearances matter in this company town. If you haven't got a facialist/herbalist/therapist on speed-dial, you might as well live in Encino. Whether he's a laid-back beach bro, model/actor/whatever, or infinity-pool-in-the-Hollywood-Hills a-hole, his standards are exacting. West Coast casual rules here, but it's not as effortless as it looks.

"People respond to text messages in the middle of a conversation here. You can't take it as a sign that he's not interested in you." -Larissa, 26

His haunts: Echo Park's public tennis courts; Runyon Canyon loop; upstairs at Geisha House; the rooftop of the Standard Hotel downtown; browsing Silver Lake's Secret Headquarters; the DVD section of Amoeba Music; karaoke at Boardwalk 11; catching the game at Barney's Beanery in Pasadena; trivia night at Busby's East; jogging along the San Vicente Boulevard median; Hermosa Beach's volleyball nets; after-hours at Original Tommy's; Spin classes at Easton Gym; getting inked at Zulu; happy hour at The Edison; the Santa Palm Car Wash; Monday Night Residency at Spaceland; killing time at Spiderboards; Stay Puft Marshmallow games of the Los Angeles Dodgeball Society; Assscat shows at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre.

His threads: The low-key ensemble for a Coffee Bean drive-by costs more than a semester at UCLA--those distressed jeans are Paul Smith; the tennis shoes, limited-edition Varvatos. And that frayed Lakers cap? A gift from Kobe.

His ride: A tricked-out BMW M6 convertible—replete with heated seats, birchwood brake handle, and embroidered floor mats—with a strict No Wet Shoes policy.

Your prep: Bronze everything and sport some serious cleavage (thank you, Dr. Ellenbogen!). Save for that fabulously John Barrett—blonde mane, you're also virtually hairless.

Keep in mind: The pros and cons of injectables versus fillers.

Pickup line: "I'm kind of a big deal."

Gotham on Lake Michigan is home to droves of wholesome-but-urbane Big Ten alums prowling for The One—a Cubbies-cap-wearing, God-fearing good girl with a shoe tree full of strappy heels. Not your scene? The famed Art Institute churns out offbeat alterna-boys for whom a romantic date is dining alfresco at the Kebab Shack and all-you-can-drink Schlitz.

"Guys here have a wicked sense of humor. When you're a transplant from whatever state produces the most pork products per capita, you can't take yourself too seriously." -Megan, 31

His haunts: Mr. Peabody Records; the cooking demos at Green City Market; last call at Skylark bar; United Center's cheap seats at Bulls games; First Fridays at the Museum of Contemporary Art; Rose's, a cozy dive; The Bull & Bear, after the closing bell; SummerDance's Thursday nights.

His threads: Think Marshall Field's Suit Department—button-down shirt paired with the standard Kenneth Cole black oxford. "There are a lot of frat guys here who graduated, got real jobs, bought a suit, and learned how to shower daily," says Christine, 25.

His ride: The El (Red Line)—be prepared for an expletive-laced rant about the time he stood for 30 minutes at Howard Street in the driving rain waiting for the train.

Your prep: Spend hundreds of dollars at the Lancôme counter to achieve the Reese Witherspoon I-woke-up-looking-this-good effect. Rock a dewy face, score a second date.

Keep in mind: Despite the foul weather, there be some buff bodies beneath those subzero parkas. Even guys who like girls are gym fanatics, so don't assume that tanned and toned means gay.

Pickup line: "I'm a community organizer."

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