original_title] | #bumble | #tinder | #pof


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I went to yet another bar on Saturday night looking for a room and asked the same question. Do you meet someone tonight?

Going out and trying to meet “The One” has become almost a chore. My friend and I spent hours preparing, but when the cute guy across the room couldn’t inspire the courage to talk to us (or perhaps a lot of ego to start a conversation) When it passed), I faced disappointment and frustration. And the man who got the phone number only became a pen pal for a few weeks before the ghost appeared. It was exhausted, to say the least.

But then the world has changed. I was in law school when the pandemic penetrated California and seized control of Los Angeles. I didn’t expect to take the bar exam remotely a few months after finishing my last semester online at Zoom University.

Even more shocking was how my personal life changed overnight. My social calendar full of birthdays, weddings, networking events and more has disappeared.And it hit me: where and how I was supposed to meet someone now??

I didn’t like online dating. I’ve met some people on the app over the years and even grown into relationships in some games, but I preferred to meet someone in person. In the app, the content of the conversation was lacking, and swiping left and right became a purposeless and meaningless game. Despite my beliefs, the optimists in me kept swiping. Because, well, what did I have to lose?

When the LA dating scene reached a dramatic and unprecedented stop, I was full with updated photos and prompts, hoping that new standards would attract a new crowd of suitors to my swipe queue. I returned to the app with the equipment. Within a few days, the drink conversation between the Huntley Hotel and Harlow took the backseat to just “Hey” and the superficial “What’s your Instagram?” Chatting with locals and tourists in the hinges and in the bungalows has been replaced by waiting for a match to reply to me in the bumble.

If dating apps were supposed to simplify the process, why did I find them so frustrating and difficult?

Indignant at the conversation that was dead before it began, I drove through the empty streets of my city and remembered memories of bars and restaurants around the city that seemed like another life. When I passed EP & LP, I praised me with my smile and thought of a sweet guy who entertained me with his jokes for over an hour — he asked me my number There wasn’t. As I turned around Sunset Boulevard and passed by Den and Skybar, I remembered a conversation with fellow Bruins and other students who were taking a break from studying and enjoying the night. Driving past Bakari and Tokamadera on the 3rdrd I remember having a meal indoors with my girlfriend and asking what I ordered at the table of the cute guys next door. This is a tactic that never failed when you needed an excuse to launch a combo.

Remembering eventually led to revelation.

My purposeless drive around the town gave me direction during the period of my life where every day was dragged into the next day and time didn’t make sense.

It may sound cliché to say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, but I don’t think there’s a better phrase.

Born and raised in Los Angeles, I was fortunate to attend an undergraduate and law school in this diverse and thrilling city with a lively nightlife. We had the opportunity to explore hotspots and hidden gems throughout the city, including Hollywood, Pasadena, Echo Park and Beverly Hills, and meet great people at the myriad bars and restaurants in these areas. What made these experiences so enjoyable and memorable was the power of personal connection, which I took for granted.

In retrospect, these encounters were opportunities, not chores. This is your chance to meet “The One” (and some interesting people along the way).

So, as life begins to return like a normal event and virtual events replace face-to-face gatherings again, I’m embracing a new perspective on dating and meeting new people. It’s a perspective I wouldn’t have had without this pandemic. Occurred.

The next time you wait in line in a blue bottle, ask the charming guy next door what you’re boldly recommending. Tell the man paying at the cashier next to Zara that he likes the jacket he chose. Hi, I would like to introduce myself to a man exercising across Equinox’s room.

Once again in the original face-to-face LA dating scene, it’s not just waiting for the city and dating apps on Saturday night. Accidental encounters transcend the boundaries of bars and restaurants. Those possibilities are everywhere and I will accept them altogether.

Because that’s the way to meet someone with me.

The author is a West Los Angeles lawyer and writer.

LA Affairs records a romantic quest for love in all of its glorious expressions in the LA region. We want to hear your true story. You will pay $ 300 for the published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. The submission guidelines are here.





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