Recently, I was writing at the Marlton Hotel (TikTok, don’t even think about blowing up my spot), when the miraculous happened: I was asked out by someone IRL. See, I’ve worked from coffee shops and hotel lobbies for three years now and *not once* have I been approached by a man (not while sober, at least). As a dating writer, however, I’ve long clung to the fantasy of meeting someone Before Sunrise-style. They’d approach me, ask what I’m writing/reading at the time; next thing you know the bartender’s yelling last call.
All of that’s to say you can imagine my excitement when I heard, “This seat taken?” over the hum of my laptop. And while I wish I had a more promising outcome to report, the interaction was…disappointing to say the least. He had to have been nine or 10 years my senior—showed zero interest in my interests (or what I was writing, for that matter)—and after offering me a Chanel bag to join him for dinner at Nobu, it quickly became clear he was looking for a sugar baby. I was flattered, of course, but I’m more of an Erin Brockovich Julia Roberts than a Pretty Woman. Still, after politely declining his invitation, I was left with a sinking feeling: Is this what the future of dating looks like? (God help us all.)
This fear comes on the heels of the recent decline in dating apps. ICYMI, Axios conducted a nationwide survey of 978 college-age people, and 79 percent said they didn’t use dating apps regularly. What’s more, Match Group—the parent company of apps including Tinder and Hinge—saw its stock plummet by 68 percent in 2023, after having fallen precipitously in price the previous year. (It seems investors were concerned with the brand’s dip in paid users.) So now, if we live in a world where my generation shuns the apps—and being hit-on IRL is about as disappointing as your roommate eating the last cupcake you’ve been dreaming about—how the hell are people dating right now?
I decided to investigate.