Being single in Sioux Falls is not like being single in other cities, if I may bestow the title “city” to our humble Midwestern micro-metropolis. We are never as cool, and we never have enough things to do on Friday night…or Tuesday night for that matter…as we would in a big city. This is life in a mini-me city. These things along with not enough like-minded people to choose from are all reasons for our solitude we tell ourselves. Perhaps this is why Santa decided to buy me some time on one of the many internet sites responsible for those annoying commercials and too-good-to-be-true stories of strangers meeting stranger and happily ever after. Valentine’s Day is going to look a little different this year as I finally join the droves of Positive Patty’s and Horny Harry’s finding love on the internet.

“Plenty of Fish” and OKCupid.com are a couple of sites that my friend Sam is currently trying after experiencing a similar gifting. “If you can believe it, the birthday gift my mother was hoping would result in a married-me and grandchildren rejected me!” I’ve heard this story before. This was one of Sam’s favorite stories, but I’d never heard the details.

The site charged Sam’s mother over $1,000 to play matchmaker. “After the interview, the woman simply said that they wouldn’t be able to help me,” Sam expressed with a Cheshire grin. “Was it your fondness of leather or stuffed animals that got you disqualified from the process?” I asked, mentioning a couple of the more benign fetishes that are out there. “You’d think so,” Sam replied, laughing at the rude joke, a perennial favorite among the group. “Actually, it was something darker than that.” Peaked, we all leaned forward. Sam paused for dramatic effect before answering, “I don’t hunt.” None of us blinked as we waited for the “…and.” Sam took another sip of wine, enjoying the amarone just a bit more than the look on our faces. Justin was the first to break the spell. “The ‘and’ we are all waiting for is that Sam doesn’t hunt and wouldn’t travel more than fifty miles for a date with someone that was compatible.” There it was. Unless you’re willing to travel long distances to meet that potential candidate, you’re S.O.L No L.O.L. Just some great single guy with a great single story.

This is the problem plaguing love-by-questionnaire. A match can be found, but you have to be willing and able to drive or fly hundreds or even thousands of miles for a date. Many jokes are made about arranged marriages. We are free in the Western world, choosing the pursuit of happiness, of the only happiness that counts in many respects, by our own volition. Screw the parents. Screw the village elders. Screw the village. This makes for great Hollywood anything. And those back in the village? Behind our backs they are the ones laughing as we are having our divorced mothers paying for the arranging that used to happen for free and by people that have known us and our prospective life partners since birth. No questionnaire needed, thank you.

Joseph Campbell, one of my favorite writers and thinkers, talks about when the Western world began to break away from the proverbial village with the troubadours. Like little Robin Hood’s dispelling not stolen monies but songs of love-without-the-village-arranging, the troubadours actually risked their lives doing so. In a strange twist, people died so we could, one day, fill out a questionnaire. And now in February, we find ourselves staring into a mirror, sheepishly. With each stroke of the shaver or dab of makeup, with just a little bit of an apologetic glint of something in our eyes, we ask Was it worth it? Is it worth it?

The troubadours thought so. Sam does, too. While not known as the most optimistic of the bunch, he has his profile on two free sites. With only so many words to spare, he’s tried different variations on conveying the most important parts of himself in thirty words or less. Conversely, he’s read about as many attempts made by others. Through it all, irony has once again smiled upon him as he now has, indeed, become a hunter. Another thing he’s learned: “Voluptuous” is not always a good thing.

As always, please send comment to stiletto.on.the.prairie@gmail.com.