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Wil Horton, 37
Rams X-ray technologist, Spanish Lake
You might think a Rams X-ray tech would be a lifelong football fan—but you’d be wrong. Wil Horton scored the job precisely because he knew almost nothing about sports.

“The doctors at the hospital would be like, ‘Wil, you see that game?’ I’d just lie, and finally they figured out I just had no clue what I was talkin’ about,” Horton laughs. In 2001 they convinced him to apply for a position with the Rams, citing his lack of knowledge as a point in his favor. At first he declined—“I knew it’d be a big, big, big deal”—but eventually he acquiesced and now works the field at every home game.

Does he mind the attention? “I want the attention if I’m the one making it happen,” he says. “But I do have a bashful side.” He’s a softie when it comes to his two kids: “We’ll see something, and before you know it we’re all laughin’,” he says. And he’s very close to his friends, with whom he’s visited 26 states and multiple islands.

His ideal woman: a lady who’s got his back—but who’ll call him out, too. “The older you get, the more you need a gal in your corner who will tell you, ‘Maybe it’s just time you shut that pie-hole.’”

We never would’ve guessed: He can be kind of a scaredy-cat. “I like scary movies, but I have to watch ’em with my kids, ’cause I’m more scared than they are,” he says. “And quiet women scare me—like, what are they really thinkin’ about?”

Amir Shah, 27
Entrepreneur, Washington Avenue Loft District
Listening to Amir Shah speak, one may begin to feel, er, irrationally exuberant. His enthusiasm for Web startups is infectious—he’s managed to enlist a dozen cousins in Pakistan to help him build new things online. “I’m an idea guy, and harnessing my ADD to create businesses is what I love,” says Shah. So far, he’s broken into social-networking software, Web development and even custom teeth-whitening—the last a joint venture with his mother, a dental assistant.
Such entrepreneurship comes naturally: Shah’s father emigrated from Pakistan at age 19, studied while working nights, then started several businesses with his brothers. When Shah was in high school, he worked off that example, creating letterhead, securing sponsorships and scoring free wheels for his roller-hockey team. He’s since seen continued success in that arena, recently becoming assistant captain of the Midwest Tornados, a professional inline team that skated to a 30–2 season last year.

When he’s not playing hockey, riding his motorcycle or scarfing down spicy food, Shah basically lives online: “Food and basic necessities are just about the only thing I don’t buy on the Internet.”

Despite his achievements, Shah’s pretty laid-back—and so is his dating M.O.: “If you’re cute, have a fun personality and like to laugh at stupid stuff, we should talk.”

We never would’ve guessed: His lifelong Transformers fandom. (We would’ve pegged him as the Speed Racer type.)



Kathy Doan, 32
Optometrist, Lake Saint Louis
Like any good doctor, Kathy Doan is reassuringly optimistic. The Sound of Music is her favorite movie—and not for the soundtrack. The von Trapp family’s story parallels her own. “I escaped from Vietnam in a canoe at the age of 7,” she explains. “So I came from a poor and humble beginning and am now experiencing the ultimate American dream.”

Experiencing it—and working to bring it to the rest of the world. In 2001 she joined a medical mission to a Mexican village, and in 2005 led a team to provide eye care to her native village in Vietnam. This year she helped direct the Pujols Family Foundation’s first Miracle of Sight mission to the Dominican Republic.

Doan’s always on the go: “Someone told me I make coffee nervous,” she says. Her two best girlfriends are the same way—the three of them travel to different cities together every other weekend. “The way we do it always overwhelms people,” she laughs.

Potential dates should be optimistic, with a good sense of humor—and a commitment to faith and service. “Pretty much almost like me,” she says. “Though maybe not someone who talks as much as me.”

We never would’ve guessed: Her love of water sports. Doan is a certified scuba diver and has kayaked, whitewater rafted and done waterfall rapelling and zip-lining in several countries, including Costa Rica.



Mark Fernandez, 40
Pediatric dentist, Ballwin
“Honey, you have to meet this guy. His name’s Mark Fernandez—yes, he’s Spanish, born in L.A.—and he’s a dentist. A single dentist! And a musician: He plays bluegrass banjo and guitar and even backed up Albert Pujols when the first baseman took a swing at singing during a mission trip. This guy’s also featured in the film Smile, a documentary about a Pujols Family Foundation dental mission trip. And he’s adventurous: He even ran with the bulls at Pamplona. Babe, you would be a fool not to give this one a shot.”

Sorry, Fernandez makes our inner matchmaker go wild. In addition to the above qualifications, he also has a wicked sense of humor. He and his identical twin brother have certainly pulled a fast one or two: When his brother got married, Fernandez stepped in to remove the bride’s garter—and got snapped by a mousetrap. (The trio planned it all in advance.)

And that mission trip featured in Smile was no anomaly: Fernandez has completed at least one mission to Central and South America each year since dental school. Potential dates should share his passion for service and have the ability to be comfortable without five-star accommodations. “I’m looking for someone who has a heart to give, who has eyes to see outward more than eyes to look at themselves,” he says. “That’s kind of a rare quality.”

We never would’ve guessed (and still don’t believe): His stated workout routine: “First I take out the trash, then I down a protein shake.”



Emily Shearon, 29
Copywriter and model, South City
Given how close to the vest Emily Shearon plays it, you might suspect she has secret-agent cred. She can certainly be a bit inscrutable. “I’m independent,” she says. “I like to go to the bar by myself and play trivia. I often sit by myself and watch people.”

Yep, definitely not ruling out that secret-agent thing—especially considering the O’Fallon, Ill., native studied Russian for ROTC in college, visiting Tokyo and St. Petersburg. Her tiny Fujitsu laptop (with GSM wireless) is never beyond arm’s reach, and she’s got mad MacGyver skills, too, once rescuing a nun’s keys from a locked car. She’s climbed Japan’s Mt. Fuji, surfed both U.S. coasts and even got mowed down by a 27-foot boat in the Ozarks, and now mentors a little guy through Big Brothers Big Sisters.

Unfortunately, we already know this agent’s Achilles’ heel: her sense of direction. “I still get lost in the mall I’ve been going to for 23 years,” Shearon confesses. “If I could get my Garmin [GPS] implanted in my wrist, I would.” She compensates for her lack of directional acuity (and knack for lateness) with a pointed directness with words, an uncanny memory and a devotion to Google Maps.

What can potential dates do to impress? Displaying considerate behavior (read: no rudeness, littering, temper tantrums or using her beach towel to wipe down your boat) is key.

We never would’ve guessed: This dynamic gal stands only 5 feet tall.



Nicole Panepinto, 36
Co-owner, The Cupcakery, Webster Groves
You may have heard of it—this little shop in the Central West End that sells, well, little cupcakes. Actually, big cupcakes. Delicious, moist ones, with buttery icing, and … Well, we digress. Anyway, in a twist worthy of a Meg Ryan flick, said shop’s co-owner is—psst!—single.

But know this: Nicole Panepinto’s in charge of the business, not the baking. “I think that with cooking, some people just have this sense of it,” she says. “But for me, if it says a pinch, I want to know how many grains of salt!”

Panepinto may be a businesswoman, but she knows how to have fun, confessing a love of powder-puff football and reality TV. After the things she saw in her last job, we think she’s entitled to be less than serious: “I spent some of my time as a catastrophe responder for corporate insurance. When you saw me coming, things had gone terribly awry. Now, to get to be the person who you seek out when you’re celebrating something—how much more fun is that?”

The one-time psychology major puts her counseling skills to work as an advice columnist for Lily7, a site for Christian college women, and is never hesitant to engage in some retail therapy of her own. Potential dates should share her faith—but also her easy sense of humor.

We never would’ve guessed: Her amazing ability to kill houseplants. “I think that I’ve had some plants—I believe that they went so poorly that I do not have a concrete recollection of them,” she says.



Sebastian Deken, 24
Facilities manager, COCA, Central West End
Dating Sebastian Deken is a fine art—or so you might think. As a classical singer and a fixture at the Center of Creative Arts, Deken lives amidst the creative class. He oversees COCA’s bookings, knows well the back stage at Powell Symphony Hall and frequently attends friends’ premieres at local galleries.

But the one-time French lit major isn’t all that demanding of his dates. “My first requirement is that they must be able to form a complete sentence,” he says. “After that it’s anyone’s game.” Between work at COCA, rehearsals and performances, Deken’s actually rather domesticated. “I’m sort of a homebody,” he admits. “I want to date someone who doesn’t care that I want to sit at home and read a novel.”

Still, he does have certain standards. He’d like to find a man like Matt Damon, he quips: “He’s awful pretty, I’m not going to lie.” Anyone who hunts recreationally is out of the question, though, for this vegetarian. His ideal date? “I would love for someone to take me to a concert,” he says. “I do so much performing that I don’t get to be a spectator very often.”

We never would’ve guessed: His fear of ketchup. “It has to do with fish sticks,” he explains. “We used to eat them every Friday when I was growing up because my family is Catholic. My brother would get ketchup everywhere, and I’d claw at him. I can handle ketchup in bottles, but the smell of it just makes me sick.”



Jennifer Gray, 35
Owner, The Time Boutique & Salon, Washington Avenue Loft District
Jennifer Gray is pretty fabulous. So fabulous, in fact, that you can see her in not one but two magazines this month, as her oh-so-chic Washington Avenue loft party makes the pages of our sister publication, AT HOME. We promise we didn’t plan it that way—that’s just Gray, always doing two things at once.

“I’m not a sit-on-the-beach kind of person,” she says, explaining her weekly routine: biking 100 miles, hitting boot camp three times, perhaps sneaking into a rooftop pool or two with friends—and otherwise leaving things open to chance. Open almost never means “unoccupied,” though. Gray just plans few things in advance, the big exception being her yearly Thanksgiving feast for “the tribe,” a.k.a. the residents of Washington Avenue.
It’s a fast-paced life. This mother of two has already done more than most people twice her age, graduating from high school early, establishing a maternity boutique at age 19, selling off the business 10 years later to work as a buyer for a major department store—and then establishing The Time, which has flourished downtown.

Take note, guys: She doesn’t date outside city limits. “Guys in the city have less baggage, less drama. It’s nice not to have that,” she says.

We never would’ve guessed: This fashionista once taught Sunday school. “My kids wanted to start going to church, and I was raised Catholic—sort of the recovering Catholic. They were looking for church volunteers, so I went in and was the Sunday school teacher for two years.”



John Danneker, 48
IT project manager, Godfrey, Ill.
From the moment John Danneker picks up the phone, you know you’re speaking to someone a bit extraordinary. “Hello, this is John, how can I improve your day?”

That’s how he answers every time—for the last 12 years. “I used to be the manager of a help desk,” he says. “When people call, they’re always frustrated and exasperated. This puts ’em at ease.”

Long story short: Danneker’s absolutely willing to buck convention to get results—and is always up for taking the path less traveled. His current plans, in fact, include opening seven bar-and-restaurant music venues between Boston and California within the next 10 years—and visiting Lima,
Peru, where he was invited after participating in a conference in São Paulo this summer.

Just another coup for this world traveler, who’s visited many offbeat locales. “I have been in every country from Florida down to South America, with the exception of Trinidad and Tobago and St. Lucia,” he says. He tries to indulge his passions—scuba diving, theater and art—wherever he travels.

Potential dates should be up for an adventure—and have good manners. “In my book there’s no excuse for rudeness,” he says.

We never would’ve guessed: His proclivity for home improvement. He’s retiled his kitchen and front entryway and replaced woodwork throughout the home—good practice for restaurant rehabs to come.



Adam Hautly, 26
“The Little Cheese” at Hautly Cheese Co., Kirkwood
The phrase took on a life of its own: [whispered] “Cheese baron!” Women would approach our desk: “Can we see the cheese baron?” (When we obliged: “Oooh, he’s cute!”) In one young man, two feminine passions combine: ready access to cheese and, um, faux royalty.

What does it mean to be an heir apparent to St. Louis’ 70-year-old cheese dynasty? For now, Adam Hautly is but a squire to the knights of cheese:

“Basically, I’m learning the business from the ground up, each facet. Cold storage, the office, salespeople, out in stores …”

But lest your romantic visions be shaken, take heed: Hautly does speak the language of courtly love (French) and imagines whisking a woman away to a would-be south of France hideaway. When we first contacted him, in fact, he emailed back from Italy, where he’d taken a two-month constitutional, snapping photos (a major hobby) all the while. “I don’t understand when people say, ‘I hit five cities in four days’—you don’t get to dig into the culture,” he says.

Hautly’s viewed the French countryside from a single-engine Cessna and hiked Austria’s Stubai Glacier wearing just shorts and a T-shirt. But he’s also very close to his family, a trait potential dates should share. A gal’s also gotta love talking and telling jokes—though we suspect he needs someone to call him on his courtly B.S.

We never would’ve guessed: That this urbane, sweet-talkin’ man would own a pet tarantula, Frank. Or secretly enjoy NASCAR. Sigh.



Molly Rockamann, 27
VP, Finance and Sustainability, Sportsprint, Ferguson
Molly Rockamann’s zest for life puts us to shame. In college the vegetarian studied sustainable agriculture in Fiji and Ghana, then immersed herself in a California farm internship for six months. Afterward, she coordinated a book tour for Anna Lappe’s Hope’s Edge: The Next Diet for a Small Planet, sold life insurance, then flew back to Ghana with Farm Serve Africa. Upon returning she sold Ghanaian clothing at Wild Oats to fund another trip to Fiji, where she spent early 2007 establishing the Fiji Organic Project, an initiative promoting sustainable sugar cane farming.

But family comes first for Rockamann, and when asked to work for the family T-shirt business, she said yes—whipping up an eco T-shirt line and pushing the company to become Missouri’s first “green” printer. “Molly Rock” ain’t resting on her laurels, either—the self-described “crazy dancer/island girl/community activist/farm girl” is starting a nonprofit collective in Ferguson called EarthDance, which will operate an organic farm/artists’ studio/event space.

Prospective dates, know this: “I may show up to a date with dirty fingernails and be snooty about wanting to eat at restaurants that serve local foods,” says Rockamann. And she’s an unabashed dancer: “I may embarrass him if he prefers the wallflower type.”

We never would’ve guessed: This former vegan’s willingness to emcee a barbecue throwdown, held at the Ferguson Farmers’ Market this fall.