Blind Dates and Romance: Relics of the Past
A commentary on the over-connected predictability of modern dating.
“John wanted to set me up on a blind date,” my housemate explained as we discussed the current status of his non-existent dating life.
“A blind date?” I asked. The phrase took me by surprise, like suddenly we’d been transported back to 1995.
“Yeah,” he continued, “with his babysitter. But I guess she just broke up with her boyfriend and said it’s too soon.”
“Ohhh, too bad,” I replied, still pondering when the last time was I heard anyone talk about a blind date. See, if the babysitter had agreed to this date, we immediately would’ve jumped on Facebook to scope her out, nulling and voiding the “blind” portion of said blind date.
Between Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and good ol’ Google — not to mention dating apps — the whole notion of a blind date has essentially vanished. People go on first dates having already found the complete resume and online photo history of the person they’re about to meet. The internet has turned every dater into an amateur private investigator. Give me a name and location, an employer, a phone number, an Instagram name, the names of some common acquaintances, or any combination of those items, and I’ll find your info.
One could argue that this is the safe thing to do. Going into a date knowing something about the person you’re meeting sets your expectations: you have some idea of what you’re about to get into. On the other hand, what ever happened to the concept of a surprise? After all, there’s something a little romantic about the blind date, isn’t there? And don’t even get me started on the meet cute. Google and Tinder have teamed up to eliminate these most romantic dating concepts.
Given that the internet really took off when I was in middle school and that Facebook first came into use my freshman year of college, I’ve never had a true blind date experience. Going out with someone sight unseen is something I’ve only ever heard about or watched on TV. I imagine the anticipation over such a date would be pretty exciting.
Getting dressed up; fretting over choosing an outfit that makes a good first impression; choosing earrings that are just enough to draw attention to your face but not overwhelming; walking into a restaurant not knowing exactly who you’re looking for (perhaps you know he’ll be wearing red); the awkward hug-or-handshake moment; the initial thought of “oh my goodness he’s handsome!”; and as the subsequent getting-to-know you conversation (which is genuine because you truly know so little about each other) unfolds, you realize how much you like talking to this person.
It sounds magical!
Okay, so this is probably the most ideal version of a blind date ever (…And they lived happily ever after…), but you get the idea. My point is that suspense is exciting. New is exciting. And the internet has effectively removed all of that.
That Was Then
Maybe I’m over-romanticizing things here (it’s likely I am). Let’s get some perspective from Seinfeld, the epitome of 1990’s dating. In “The Fix-Up”, Jerry and Elaine decide to set George up with Elaine’s friend Cynthia. Both set-up-ees are initially resistant to the idea of a blind date. George is actually very resistant. “No! I’m not gonna do that! That’s one step away from personal ads! And prostitutes! No! No, I am not going down that road!” he protests.
He follows up a moment later with, “What does she look like?”
Ah, yes, see… George’s fear of the unknown gives way to curiosity, almost instantly.
Even Elaine’s unflattering description of George — “Um, well, he’s got a lot of character in his face. Um, he’s short. Um, he’s stocky.” — is no deterrent to Cynthia. The blind date is on!
Hilarity ensues, of course, through the rest of the episode, but I won’t spoil the ending. Needless to say, this entire episode would not be possible were it set in the present day instead of 1992. Jerry would have brought up Cynthia’s Facebook profile so George could go right to her profile pictures. Elaine would have done the same, carefully curating which George pics to show her friend. After agreeing to the date, Cynthia would’ve Googled “George Costanza Manhattan” to make sure he wasn’t a registered sex offender. They would have swapped cell phone numbers and texted for a while. Assuming George didn’t ask for nudes, immediately ending things, they’d dance around making plans for at least a week before finally scheduling something. In the meantime, though, Cynthia will have gone on two Tinder dates, one of which is less stocky and balding than George. She’d gradually ghost George, leaving him wondering where he went wrong.
This Is Now
Jump to TV — or Netflix — in 2017 and the scene is very different from that in Jerry’s apartment. In the “Thanksgiving” episode of Master of None (a wonderful episode for so many reasons), Aziz Ansari’s character, Dev, is about to meet his friend Denise’s new girlfriend.
Dev: What’s her Instagram name? I want to look her up.
Denise: Dude, you’re literally gonna meet her in a few minutes.
Dev: I know, but I want to look it up beforehand, get a vibe.
Denise: [sighs] I forgot.
Dev: You forgot? Look it up.
Denise: [sighs] — [mumbles]
Dev: W-what’s that?
Denise: NipplesAndToes23
Dev: Denise! You can’t be dating some girl with the Instagram name NipplesAndToes23.
Denise: I know, man. I’m trying to get her to change it.
Dev: [scoffs] I’m surprised there were 22 other NipplesAndToes. Let’s see what we got here. Oh, wow. These are some provocative photos.
Denise: Okay, don’t be looking at my girl, man.
Dev: Ooh. Really into fitness... She is kind of naked there…
(Dev later makes it a point to bring up the girlfriend’s user name at the Thanksgiving dinner table, but that’s irrelevant here.)
This conversation between Dev and Denise strikes a chord because it’s exactly what any 20- or 30-something would do today. You look up someone on social media and pass judgement about who they are as a person before you’ve even met them in real life. So, when you do meet, your preconceived notions are inherently going to bias how you interact with that person.
Dating apps essentially create the same phenomenon. You match, you chat, you look them up online everywhere you possibly can, you meet. Then what? You’ve likely already chatted about the basics: job, college, hobbies, how you got to where you are, what you’re looking for, where you live, drink of choice — all standard Tinder banter. Really, you’re not trying to get to know this person on a fundamental level because you already do. Instead, you’re waiting to see if this person meets your expectations based on what you know of them so far.
On a blind date, you’re going in with a blank slate. On a Tinder date, you’re going in with the odds stacked in or against your favor, depending on how well the social media version of you aligns with real life you.
I’ll concede that online dating, and the internet in general, have created new and often easier ways of meeting people. This, I think, is a good thing. However, I know many people, even among my own peers, who are still adamantly turned off by the idea of a dating app.
“It’s so impersonal.”
“I’d rather meet someone in person.”
“Meeting someone randomly is so much more romantic.”
People still want romance. They want personal interaction. Deep down, they want to be wildly surprised. And yet, use of dating sites and apps has been on the rise.
“The share of 18- to 24-year-olds who use online dating has roughly tripled from 10% in 2013 to 27% today [2016].”
What does this mean for the future of dating?
A friend of mine recently told me a story about her son asking in the car, “Why do we say ‘rolling up the window’? Nothing is rolling.” Little did he know there was a day when we had to manually roll up the windows with a handle — he’d only ever lived in a time when automatic windows were the standard.
This makes me wonder what generation will ask, “What is a blind date?”
Blind dates will, I’m sure, become a relic of the past just like manual windows.
And what of romance? What about the anticipation of a first date? Will those too fall by the wayside?
Social media, intended to enable people to connect more efficiently, is ironically increasing the disconnect between humans. The world of relationships and dating is also becoming increasingly disconnected, increasingly impersonal. Your next date can be found at the swipe of finger. Their entire history can be found online. Why go out with a friend-of-a-friend based solely on word of mouth, when you can Google and find out all you need to know immediately? Sure, this overwhelming access to people and information can be empowering. It allows daters to have more options, and potentially make smarter dating choices. However, it comes with a price, too — a price called romance.
Stella J. McKenna is a 30-something-year-old living in New England. By day, she lives and works in the world of academia. By night, she writes about life, romance, and dating, among other things. Follow her on Twitter @writingsolo and read her work on Medium at https://medium.com/@writingsolo.
