The New York Times recently visited Minneapolis to explore our dating scene and the resulting article may be the funniest thing you ever read about the sex life of your friends.
To hear the Gray Lady tell it, we're all a bunch of shot-and-a-beer drinking hipsters who cluster around Uptown to sleep with our friends' exes in a desperate attempt to secure companionship before the inevitable nine-month winter snow-in.
Also: Big Buck Hunter plays a major role in our mating rituals.
You can read the whole article here, but allow us to provide you with the Cliff's Notes:
The main thing you need to know about Uptown is that it lacks skyways.
For residents of Uptown, which lacks skyways, going out can be a pastime for the very hearty -- or the very motivated.
All of our dating revolves around the inevitable arrival of cold weather
"You want to fall in love in winter," said Hayley Lindma, a 23-year-old artist who was with three friends at Mort's, as everyone calls it, surrounded by dartboards, Big Buck Hunter games and a jukebox. When it's cold, she said, "You want to stay home and cuddle and watch movies and eat food and be with your pets."
"Summer's for flings," said Ms. Lindma, who was wearing her shock of platinum hair piled atop her head.
Minneapolis men get all their best pick-up lines from Game of Thrones
Men are always telling her she looks like Khaleesi, a character from "Game of Thrones," a line she thinks is cheesy.
We make fun of hipsters, but secretly want to be them.
"We hate on hipsters, but we all dress like them," Ms. McElver said.
Our hipsters are actually a sub-species known as Hipsterus Mineapolite known for their unusual politeness.
While their counterparts in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, or the Silverlake neighborhood of Los Angeles are defined (and derided) for their blasé pose, their Twin Cities brothers and sisters, while blessed with the same clunky glasses, working-class-chic attire and fixed-gear bikes, retain the openness and generosity of the region.
New Yorkers can see through our "too cool for school" dance moves and recognize our interior Lutheran sensibilities.
"Minnesota Nice," that affectionately mocking appellation, shines through even the densest layers of flannel.
We read alternative weeklies like City Pages, and go to bars like the CC Club.
He and some friends were planning to move on to their next destination: the CC Club, a spot on South Lyndale that was recently the subject of a cover article in City Pages, a weekly newspaper, about its long, boozy history in the city's music scene. (It's the bar immortalized in the Replacements' song "Here Comes a Regular.")
We order a shot and a beer, which in New York requires busting out the French dictionary.
Then again, many of the local bars offer excellent deals, like a prix fixe special at the Nomad World Pub of a tall boy of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a shot of Jameson, for $5.
The only thing that local men and women have in common is Big Buck Hunter.
One time, Mr. Wayne was sent over to a woman playing Big Buck Hunter and instructed to tell her that she "smells like a killer."
We have all slept with each other by transitive property.
"One thing I'd say about Minneapolis is that if you've slept with one girl, you know 10 guys she's slept with, and half of them are your friends, and vice versa for women with guys -- that's just the way it is," said Mr. Heins, a tall, bearded, soft-spoken guy dressed entirely in black. "You're not going to worry as much because, 'Oh, it's Minneapolis,' " he said. "So you can't harbor hate."
We are all living the dream.
Does the life she has now live up to that dream?, the visitor asked."Oh, yeah," she said. "Oh, yeah."
Big Buck Hunter and Pabst, FTW!