Tuesday, February 7, 2023 Feb 7, 2023
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The Dallas Man

We’ve all heard about the Dallas Woman—big hair, big breasts, big mouth. But what about the Dallas Man? We present a field guide to the species.
By Nancy Nichols |

HIS MATING CALLS
When the Dallas Man hits the town looking for “love,” he’s a sight to behold. He’s brazen and brave, and with a limited, one-line arsenal, he keeps shooting till he scores. He might ask 10 women a night, “Didn’t I see you at…?” knowing that the odds are it will work on girl No. 11. Last year the Dallas Man wooed us with “I’m a dot.com guy.” This year he’s changed his song to “I just cashed out of my dot.com.”


If he’s a 972 guy, he’s less likely to be interested in a 214 girl. And vice versa.


The Dallas Stars are the best thing that ever happened to the Dallas Man. If he’s got an extra ticket, he’s got a date. More often than not, the Dallas Man will ask what your dad does for a living before he will ask what you do—he already assumes your job is menial.So ladies, if you’re looking for a nice guy to treat you with respect, pay close attention to these mating calls:
“You must have worn braces; your teeth are perfect,” “I like what you’ve done to your hair,” and “You look so familiar.” But the “Don’t you hate places like this” bonding technique is classic Dallas Man—after all, the bartender just greeted him by name. Every once in a while you might bump into a Dallas Man that will use the honest approach: “If you’re looking for a 40-year-old balding guy to make you unhappy, I’m your man.”

 

To further his hip, sophisticated look, he trims his long sideburns squarely. But we know he’ll never be too sophisticated because he continually recites one-liners from Caddyshack. No more contacts for our Dallas Man. He’s got several pairs of Eddie Bauer rectangular framed spectacles to upgrade his image. Clipped to the sun visor in his car is a pair of sleek gunmetal gray Armani shades (that’s Style No. 671 for all you wannabes). His martini is macho. The vodka has a manly image—Grey Goose. Count the number of olives—three indicates that he’s a big player. Of course, the cigar is Cohiba.

Every Dallas Man has a pair of pricey loafers. Oh, and the shoes can’t be tan. They must be black and Prada.

The Nokia 8260 is standard equipment. And a Dallas Man will never turn it off. The phone is his substitute “blankey” and comforts him wherever he goes. You can easily spot a Dallas Man in a restaurant—he’s the one with the little black box next to his fork.
He has lost interest in the preppy Polo shop and now attempts a more sophisticated look from Prada, Stanley Korshak, and Neiman Marcus. But his boxers still come from Banana Republic. Every Dallas Man has tickets and parking passes to any sporting event. He either has tickets through his own company or he buys them with a group of his mates. But a regular drinking buddy who, coincidentally, is a player on one of the teams invites the big guns. A Dallas Man gets his financial news from The Racing Form and the Wall Street Journal over his morning coffee at Starbucks.

 

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