**I found this on Powder Mag's site. Funny Shit.
RADAR LOVE: Six tips for finding Ms. Right Now
By Hans Ludwig
New Liftie: Lie to her
Get’n some in a ski town is a daunting task. As you know all too well, the male-to-female ratio is stacked against you. Remember those movies from biology class with the big round egg surrounded by thousands of battling sperm? Getting lucky in this playground takes nerve, grit, and a sturdy liver, but the key to this battle is knowing who you’re up against and how to handle her after the word “Hi.” Above all else, remember this: Someone’s taking her home tonight—it might as well be you.
The New Liftie
Drinks… anything someone over 21 gives her
Listens to… Avril Lavigne
Like plankton and krill, the fresh little liftie occupies the bottom of the ski town food chain. Moving to town “just for the winter,” she is usually plucked up by a kook ski instructor who lives in staff accom. Your plan? Lie to her. You are a big-time professional skier. Give her goggles. With luck—and a little isolation in your quaint a-frame—this web of deceit should hold until she returns to community college in Oklahoma. However, if she stays for another season, an actual pro skier will replace you.
Drinks… microbrew and homemade wine
Listens to… String Cheese Incident and reggae
Unavoidable in Colorado and common throughout the intermountain West, the harmless Hippie Chick is always a safe bet. She’s friendly, fun, and not scared of good old casual sex, poor hygiene, or earthy drug habits. The formula is simple: take her climbing, ski touring, or kayaking. Afterward, cook a delicious vegan meal and talk earnestly about yoga, her dog Aiko, Chaco sandals, and the sagebrush on the dashboard of her 4Runner. Gently rub her back. Potential downsides include enduring meaningless theorizing about world hunger and pixies while broaching the body hair issue without blowing it.
Drinks… Chianti or port
Listens to… Fleetwood Mac
Potentially dangerous and always unpredictable, the Cougar stalks at night—waiting to sink her well-manicured claws into the backs of helpless young ski bums. Large populations lurk at high-end resorts all over the world. Satiated by a bevy of furs and the well-appointed ski-in/ski-out second home they won in the divorce, Cougars can be tender and generous benefactors. Most importantly, the Cougar doesn’t expect much outside of an energetic shagging from someone who in no way resembles her driven and successful ex-husband (like yourself).
Drinks… vodka cranberry
Listens to… Lauryn Hill
The fem-local is tracked out but still wildly unstable. Like the Cougar, she can only be seen at night—in video stores, house parties, and at the supermarket. After a lifetime’s worth of athletic young men, she is trouble with a capital “T” and a vector for strains of venereal disease from as far away as New Zealand and Norway. That said, she will sleep with you, and then with all your friends—hell-bent on tossing off the shackles of being a respectable daughter with rich parents. Buy her a drink around closing time (actually she’ll wave an empty tumbler in your face while groping you). If you give her lots of gear she will sleep with you again and be a little more discrete when she sleeps with all your friends.
Your Friend’s Ex-Girlfriend
Drinks… Corona, vodka/Red Bull
Listens to… Nelly Furtado
Like the powder on the other side of the rope, the sweet taste of this forbidden fruit is always near at hand. Spend enough seasons in the incestuous and convoluted world of the ski town and you’ll understand why the locals are always looking over their shoulders. When a bro goes through a tough breakup, the Ex will need an understanding friend who just listens and keeps buying her shot after shot. Accept the fact that you will get punched in the face tomorrow, then take her home for a drunken night of sordid and depraved sex.
The Dream Girl
Drinks… organic green tea
Listens to… the Pixies
The Dream Girl is fit, cute, shreds pow, mountain bikes, and never ever goes to the bar, snorts cocaine, or sleeps with all your friends (at least not until you officially break up). These girls actually do exist, and actually shack up with guys just like you. You don’t even have to buy her drinks. The question is, are you ready to commit to herbal tea, jogging, honest discussions, and potpourri in the bathroom? No, you aren’t. You want to drink beer in your long underwear and collect unemployment. You are a ski town dirtbag. Call the Cougar.