When we published our post featuring the top ten Denver women you've probably dated, we promised that Denver men would be spotlighted soon.
And the time has come. Check out our crowd-sourced, extremely scientific (okay, not really) look at the masculine animals in the Denver dating jungle, with illustrations by the incomparable Noah Van Sciver.
Have you encountered one of these creatures and lived to tell the tale? Find out below.
Juicefera Also known as: The Juicehead
The Juicefera wants to get big by any means necessary, including the use of human growth hormones or turning his buttocks into a target for steroid-filled hypodermics. When he's not watching his every flex and thrust in the nearest mirror, he prefers to wear clothing that would be two sizes too small even if his muscles weren't puffed up like fleshy bounce houses, and he's prone to engaging in rage at the least provocation. Moreover, he likes it when he loses control. His idea of a great date is taking a companion to the ViewHouse, then waiting around until he decides someone has looked at him sideways (whether the guy actually did or not) and going MMA-berzerker on his ass. Be prepared to spend a lot of time at police stations. Also: microscopic penis.
Sportus Constantino Also known as: The Sports Addict
The Sportus Constantino's idea of dressing up for a big night out is to put on a replica jersey -- the one that cost a month's rent to purchase -- and head to the Blake Street Tavern, where he'll spend the entire evening looking from screen to screen without once casting his gaze on you. He doesn't care if it's a playoff game or an exhibition match between amateur curlers. He can't look away, and neither can he resist shouting out his take on the action even if he has no idea what's going on. (Make that especially if he has no idea.) If you try to join in with the sports chatter, he'll be so thrilled he may start to hyperventilate. But at a certain point, you'll realize he's not listening to a word you're saying. He's so mesmerized by televised balling that he'll never get around to the other kind.
Perviricious Maximus Also known as: The Perv
Males from many domains have one-track minds when it comes to sex, but Perviricious Maximus's is totally off the rails, because he doesn't differentiate between private and public. He can't resist the impulse to touch, stroke and caress you in ways that would be fine in the bedroom but tend to raise eyebrows when they happen at King Soopers, a dentist's office, or during a Crossroads Church service. Nothing short of slamming him in the groin with a bowling ball will convince him to throw a towel over it, and even then, it's no guarantee. Moreover, he thinks nothing of asking anyone and everyone, including random strangers, to join in. Which might be okay if one of them wasn't your mom.
Dudononculous Meretricius Also known as: The Man Whore
A close relative of Perviricious Maximus, Dudononculous Meretricius thinks a monogamous relationship means only having sex with one person per day -- and that rarely happens. Hit the bars with him and he can't help singling out the singles, then slithering toward them with eyebrow arched, line of patter ready and absolutely zero sense of embarrassment about hitting on one person while out with another, often while sporting the kind of reflexive erection indicative of someone who doesn't need Viagra but takes double doses of it anyhow. When the lights are low, he can be identified by the aroma of way too much cologne and the crinkle of condom wrappers whenever he sits down.
Gameonerous Also known as: The Gamer
The mating ritual of this creature is mysterious, since few individuals of any lineage have actually observed it taking place. An evening featuring the Gameonerous and his significant other generally consists of the latter slowly melting into a puddle of boredom as the former sits at a console completely enveloped in navigating Grand Theft Auto 5. Not that he's anti-social. In fact, he's got plenty of friends. Trouble is, he doesn't know their real names -- unless the parents of that guy in Croatia who seems just a little too good at Halo: Spartan Assault actually christened him "Bone Crusher." When the game's on, you're the loser.
Naturalitis Extremus Also known as: The Nature Boy
Most people who live in Colorado love the great outdoors. But Naturalitis Extremus matches this commonplace affection with a manic dislike of the indoors. Put a roof over him and he gets nervous, twitchy, as if he's not going to be happy until he starts a campfire, even if it's with your sofa. By the end of a date with him, you'll have gotten the chance to dig for grubs he swears are delicious (but which taste suspiciously like grubs), chew on tree bark, and discover that his alternatives to sunblock use are a good way to wind up in Denver Health with third-degree burns. Be warned that if you get a scrape, poke yourself on a cactus or do any kind of damage to your skin whatsoever, he'll want to urinate on the wound.
Moochaffa Also known as: The Mooch
The Moochaffa is congenitally incapable of paying for anything. He'll invite you to Mizuna or Morton's, request the most expensive wine, call for appetizers so pricey they require a credit check before purchase, and then suddenly discover that he left his wallet on another planet. Confront him about it and he'll be apologetic, swearing that he'll make it up to you with such persuasive sincerity that you'll only discover he was lying after he explains that he can't reimburse you for those plane tickets and the condo in Palm Springs because all of his assets are tied up. At that point, the only thing you can do is tie him up and kick his assets.
Mondo Posseramus Also known as: The Posse Bro
Mondo Posseramus is not solitary. Far from it: He never goes anywhere unless he's surrounded by others of his genus, identifiable by their giant teeth, lantern jaws, overpriced casual wear and proclivity for wearing baseball caps backwards even though that particular fashion choice has been indicative of assholery for at least twenty years. At the club, he and his homies move as a pack while laughing and pointing at others around them, and any person in the group who dares to split off, even for some brief canoodling, is left hanging the next time he calls for a high-five -- the most profound humiliation imaginable. Try not to choke on anything in this setting, because he'll be too busy bro-ing down to notice until you've stopped breathing entirely.
Zealotimida Also known as: The Zealot
The rigidly political belief systems of the Zealotimida vary from individual to individual. But members of this order share a complete lack of humor, tunnel vision so severe that it's a wonder they can walk down a street without falling into a gutter, and the sense that if they lavish even a few minutes' worth of attention on a mate, Edward Snowden will feel sadly neglected or some government flunky will try to ban children from using bazookas. Forget about dinner and a movie: The average date consists of a secret meeting in a hygienically challenged cohort's Capitol Hill basement, where everyone speaks through gritted teeth and looks around furtively, crazy eyes spinning, while trying to figure out which of them is an undercover cop.
Novicia Stonozoa Also known as: The New Stoner
The heartiest of this breed are able to function well no matter how many bowls are behind them. But the Novicia Stonozoa is new to the lifestyle but would never admit it. The result is someone with both the desire to consume every strain of cannabis in existence and the total inability to handle his shit after he does. A date with him is apt to consist of a trip to the Mercury Cafe for long, semi-coherent monologues about different buds that even an abstainer can tell are flat wrong, failed jokes that he keeps trying to explain even if you pretend to laugh at them out of self-defense, and long periods of unconsciousness broken by occasional flatulence.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
Send your story tips to the author, Michael Roberts.