It's raining men -- hallelujah! I am officially over metrosexuals. The last guy I dated shaved his entire body (yes, even there) and used more skin-care products than Tyra Banks and Janice Dickenson combined. His obsession with personal grooming was not only time-consuming, it was less than manly -- and manliness is a trait that a single woman looks for in, well, a man. Don't get me wrong -- I like a mate who showers daily and keeps his fingernails clean and clipped, but I don't want someone who can give the Queer Eye boys pointers on the newest eye serum from Clinique. In my renewed quest for manly men, I recently went to ground zero for heterosexual males in Cherry Creek: the Cherry Cricket. I know that most manly men believe that every bar is a sausage factory, but you won't find a greater concentration of ballcap-wearing, generic-lotion-using real men than at this classic dive, the historic hangout of truck drivers who worked the dump now buried beneath the Cherry Creek Shopping Center back in the '40s and '50s. While the Cricket remains more of a beer-and-a-shot kinda bar, the bartender quickly mixed me an AquaDeath ($5.50), made with Malibu, Myers's dark, Bacardi 151, Blue Curaçao, pineapple and sweet and sour. It was the perfect girl-drink complement to a testosterone-packed evening. God bless Mother Nature; she's a single woman, too.


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