I’ve not once downloaded a dating app. Instead, and perhaps stubbornly, I’ve chosen to believe in fate. But having been back in Cincinnati for nearly nine months post-graduation and still date-less, I recently decided that if I wasn’t going to push “Install,” I’d need to find a little push elsewhere.
Date Cincy, founded in the summer of 2023, maintains the goal of “helping Cincy singles meet their person, IN PERSON.” The organization is the brainchild of Paige Braley and Logan Moore, who, alongside a group of volunteers, make Date Cincy’s twice-monthly events of varying themes and sizes happen.
I’ve been familiar with the organization for a while, and the all-caps, IRL emphasis has resonated. But while I’ve always hoped for in-person connections, I’ve questioned whether they’re still even possible.
When I learned they were hosting “Meet Your Match Singles Night” at BrewDog Cincinnati on Jan. 24, I decided to give it a shot. The event was close enough to Valentine’s Day to give me hope and to Singles Awareness Day to provide me with an empowering safety net.
I’ll admit that I went in knowing that this event wasn’t tech-free. For this mixer, specifically, Date Cincy partnered with Matchbox, which uses an algorithm-based questionnaire and “cutting-edge relationship science” (fancy!) to make matches. This event was apparently unique in the Date Cincy universe. Scrolling through previous mixers, it seems like a majority have been more freeform mingles. Just the same, I took some comfort in knowing I’d likely have at least one person to talk to by the end of the night.
CityBeat Promotions Manager Chanell Karr also had the brilliant idea of getting a male perspective on this sort of thing and volunteered her brother, Chad, who was familiar with Date Cincy himself through the recommendation of friends.
Even so, it’s a whole week in advance when I start feeling the buzz of an apprehension cocktail. Even though I’ll have a buddy/surrogate older brother for backup, I’m nervous. I’ve never been set up on a blind date, but I undergo a secondhand experience of the pre-meet jitters I hear about — only instead of meeting up with just one person, I’m meeting up with a bunch, about whom I have absolutely no idea. There was also a lingering worry about how people might act — would I be confronted with any inappropriate behavior or uncomfortable scenarios?
I was, however, reassured by an established code of conduct outlined in Date Cincy’s waiver. I noted that Date Cincy will ask anyone about whom organizers receive complaints to leave. Moreover, by attending, you agree to behave in “a considerate manner.” And, of course, I had Chad to obliterate anyone who deigned to besmirch my honor.
I also remembered that I’ve been to plenty of professional mixers, so I decided to view this as a networking event, with an edge.
I’m a 22-year-old female and Chad is a 39-year-old male. Date Cincy made it clear that this 21+ event was geared toward 25-40-year-olds. Since I’m a little younger than their target demographic, I accepted that my prospects would probably be limited (more on this later). I’ll additionally point out here that Date Cincy sells separate tickets for men and women; for this event, women’s tickets sold out before men’s.
My dating experience has been limited, and I’ve come of age in the era where it’s commonplace, if not expected, to turn to digital means for dating. Chad, on the other hand, has tried numerous dating apps. He’s also dated significantly more than myself, but he still got to do so in the pre-app store yesteryear.
“It was also easier back in the day, because people had parties, and you met a lot of people organically,” Chad told me. “The socialization wasn’t like it is now.”
The evening of the event, I checked in, filled out a name tag and got a wristband to indicate what I’m looking for: serious dating, casual dating or either. A sign suggested that we list our age and the age range we’re interested in. I’m not a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, but I noticed sheets of small Pride flag heart stickers nearby, which I assume folks could add to their name tags.
It was onto the questionnaire next. Along with asking my full name, age and sexual orientation, Matchbox had me consider statements and rate my feelings on a scale of 1-7. I was presented with everything from “My partner can be friends with an ex” to “Sports are an important part of family time.” I had a decent amount of time to fill it out, although I struggled between wanting to give the statements some considerable thought and just trusting my gut.
All questionnaires had to be completed by a certain time. With questionnaires submitted and “Good luck”s exchanged, I adjust my nametag, Chad pops a few sticks of spearmint gum and we disperse.
Throughout the event, attendees received hints about their match via text (ex: “You might find they’re self-sufficient”) as we were gradually divided into smaller groups, within which we’d ultimately meet our chosen one. Between these re-groupings, we had time to mingle with the singles on all sides/go to the bar for some liquid confidence.
As an icebreaker, Date Cincy encouraged us to fill out a “2 Truths and a Lie” card, incentivizing us with a chance for prizes. While it helped to have, I observed that most folks tried to strike up conversations without it. Although he similarly found it useful, Chad witnessed the same.
Before group divisions began and it was just a gargantuan mixer, in spite of the icebreaker, I occasionally found it hard to get conversations going. I think this was partially due to me not being able to find many folks within my preferred age range (and not many people listed their age on their name tag). I’m personally terrible at guessing peoples’ ages (which didn’t help, either), but from what I could tell, I was definitely one of, if not the, youngest person there.
I eventually resorted to repeatedly circling BrewDog like a goldfish. Channeling my networking experience, I made sure to put on my best Miss America smile and *glide*, as I spotted Chad talking with numerous women.
As the pools became smaller, I found it easier to strike up conversations in our little clusters, although Chad disliked this portion of the event, as he felt “forced” to stick to these ever-shrinking groups. Eventually, we were whittled down into parties of six. After a 60-second countdown, our matches were finally revealed, and from there, we had time to talk. Some matches stood around for a long time, some chatted for a bit and some parted ways quickly. I saw at least one pair leave arm-in-arm (hell yeah!).
“I went in with no expectations, because that way, I wasn’t trying to set myself up for failure,” Chad later told me. “I went in with a clear mind. And I also liked where I hadn’t been to an event like that, because I didn’t know what I was up against.”
Even so, on Chad’s end, this wasn’t too unusual — or intimidating — of an experience. He once did a blind date photo shoot, so this event was quite tame in comparison. But, like me, he appreciated its in-person nature that demands you be organic. While he humbly claimed to have stood “on the outskirts,” I beg to differ — I saw him chatting up numerous ladies as I floundered about. He calculates he got to talk to six or seven people (it was only two for me), making connections through shared affinities for pinball and nostalgic television.
One thing Chad explained was that his choice not to display his age or age preference was intentional.
“Sometimes, people look at the number, then that disqualifies you.”
Matches aside (it didn’t end up working out with mine), I think the best part of this Date Cincy experience for me was just meeting people with a common denominator. Unlike, say, a bar on a regular night, you’re in a social setting where you know everyone around you is looking for the same thing. For any stumbling blocks I faced in trying to find people to talk to, I could at least feel comfortable approaching when I did. Chad also notes that since the event was private, there was no guessing necessary.
“It’s not for everybody, but I think you got a better chance of finding possibly what you want,” was Chad’s take.
With that, even if you didn’t have chemistry, there was nothing barring you from having a good conversation. There was nervous energy and some awkwardness in the room, sure, but no bad vibes that I could pick up on. Everyone took the waiver’s “considerate manner” stipulation seriously, and I only had kind encounters (Chad likewise reports that he only overheard one weird conversation).
It takes intention — and, who are we kidding, a massive amount of bravery — to participate in one of these things. Suffice it to say, it’s a little strange to exist in a world where finding a significant other in person has become something of a novelty, but it gave me hope to see that so many people are still willing to give it a shot.
Dating — whether it’s sparked by a meet-cute or a swipe right — is hard. It seems like there are all kinds of rules you’re contending with, and it doesn’t help that everyone seems to have their own unique set. But Date Cincy isn’t totally reinventing the wheel — it seems like they’re just trying to get it spinning again.
For more information about Date Cincy, visit datecincy.com.
This story is featured in CityBeat’s Feb. 19 print edition.
This article appears in Feb 19 – Mar 4, 2025.