It’s easier to find a Prius than a date in Seattle

I close the door of my Uber driver’s Toyota Prius, my heels in one hand, my purse in the other. Despair swells up inside me, and I feel like I could cry. As I struggle to find my house keys, something strikes me.

If only there were as many eligible men as there are Uber drivers in Priuses.

A few hours prior I was applying mascara and daydreaming about the forthcoming evening. My date and I would immediately click, the conversation would be easy. He’d laugh at everything I say, because I’m hilarious. Then we’d kiss goodbye, equally eager and excited for our impending second date. In reality, we drank our way through awkward pauses, and I called my Uber sitting alone at the table, while my date took a 30-minute phone call from his ex-wife, half a block away from our patio dining. 

I fully acknowledge that me and Mr. Ex didn’t have the best chemistry from the get-go. But this was my second date this week. And I’ve been dating consistently for over a year! How many was it going to take to find love?! 

According to Gene Balk’s recent Seattle Times article, there are nearly 112 men ages 25-39 in King County for every 100 women. I am 30, so this data is perfect information for my dating demographic. If the odds are seemingly stacked in my favor, why have I not met the one? Shouldn’t there actually be as many eligible men as there are Uber drivers? 

I have at least a dozen friends my age in King County, who feel the same way I do. I lament to everyone from my Pilates instructor to the librarian at the Bellevue Public Library. We are all putting ourselves out there, and we are all struggling to find what we’re looking for.

Many of us are on the dating apps, and view them as a necessary — and frustrating — evil when it comes to finding love. Other common complaints are that they are inefficient, time-consuming and overwhelming. Mr. Ex, mentioned earlier, came from the dating apps, as did Mr. Druggie, Mr. Boastful and Mr. Touchy.

I even work part-time as a professional matchmaker. So it is literally part of my job to talk about dating. The clients who use the company I work for vary in age, gender and sexual orientation. In each case, the team attempts to match people based on an extensive and deeply personal interview. But even with this personal touch, the process is painstaking and doesn’t always produce the desired result. 

Some may wonder if the infamous “Seattle Freeze” is the cause, but I don’t think it’s fair to point blame in that direction because I’ve found plenty of friendly people in this city.   

COVID-19 certainly didn’t help my cause, but that isn’t unique to big cities like Seattle. For many of us, the switch to remote work has diminished our chances of meeting new people at the office. Hard to hang out around the water cooler when it’s your own kitchen faucet. 

Clearly, I’ve given this a lot of thought. And I think it comes down to this: No one, and certainly no algorithm, can predict chemistry — much less connection. So even with favorable population demographics, social media apps that let us customize preferences, or professional matchmaking services, the search for love has always been, and remains, just plain hard. 

And yet, we’re all on board to keep trying. Because for most of us, finding that combination of compatibility and desire is what we aspire to on our journey to happiness. And it’s worth pursuing. It’s that elusive thing some of us have tasted, and others are yearning for. 

Now, where did I set my phone?