As unsure as a newborn lamb, I remove my mask and return the smile of the man across from me. The date is a setup, so conversation comes easily. "How do you know so and so?" and the like. The chemistry is palpable. We share sweet and doughy Parker House rolls and devour perfectly cooked steak. By the end of the night, my nerves have settled. Dating, it turns out, was easy. As a grown woman, a mother of two, and someone with earned life experience, I'd gained some poise and self-confidence along the way.
He walks me to my car, and we both hesitate for a moment before falling into an almost teenaged fury of making out under the moonlight. "This was great," he says, breathless. The night is perfect.
I will never hear from him again.
This story might sound familiar to you, especially if you have ever spoken to a single person in Miami. After all, in a national study by Spokeo about the best places for dating in America, Florida came in dead last. But what does that even mean? Florida didn't invent ghosting, and Miami didn't perfect it. The disappearing act is a national trend, as resonant as our innate hesitance to double text. At this very moment, some poor girl in Idaho might be getting ghosted by a cattle farmer who's just gotten out of a bad relationship and is not ready for a commitment.
So, what makes Florida the worst?
According to the Spokeo study, it's because we rank poorly on these metrics: mental health awareness, sociopolitical involvement, and debt sensitivity. Those are weird categories. I'm civic-minded enough, but I have never chosen a date based on how often he picks up trash on the beach — though it's definitely a good quality. This is what happens when you take a subjective issue and try to make it objective. It's like trying to name the best pizza restaurant in Miami. You can do it, but there will be some dissenters. (The answer is Mister O1.)
As always, Florida is an easy target, a cheap shot for the rest of the country to point and laugh. But is the dating scene really all that bad out there?
Yes and no. It's complicated, and it depends on what you're looking for. As someone who has already ticked the imaginary cis hetero female boxes — marriage and kids — the stakes are pretty low, and the bar is even lower. I didn't re-enter the dating pool looking for my next husband — though a callback would've been nice — so it's been easy enough to find dates. Situationship bros love to hear those magic words, "I'm not looking for anything serious." It's literally music to their ears.Florida didn't invent ghosting, and Miami didn't perfect it. The disappearing act is a national trend.
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For those truly looking for love, though, I imagine the pool is crowded and murky. (I've seen your Tinder profiles, guys. Please take off the sunglasses and put down the fish.) Still, I know there are meaningful relationships to be found out there. One of my girlfriends recently found love on Twitter, and now her boyfriend is crossing the bridge when she's out of town to walk her dogs. Romance can't be entirely dead. And who doesn't enjoy reminiscing about their few (hundred) fails on the road to something real?
As far as horror stories go, I've been pretty lucky — no restraining orders or catfishes as of this publication date — which isn't to downplay the absolute cesspool that we all know is out there. Is that a Miami-specific affliction? I don't think so. As always, we are troubled in our own unique ways. Maybe dating is difficult here because, with local traffic, Kendall to Aventura would constitute a long-distance relationship, or perhaps it's because there are just so many damn good-looking singles running around town in skimpy clothes.
At least we have singles here, though. A friend from the Midwest is moving away because, in her words, "Chicago and Milwaukee are the most married cities in the country. There's nothing there for me anymore." In Miami, by contrast, we have enough singles to fill the Hard Rock Stadium several times over — an infinite amount of potential ghostings.
Every city has its dating issues. New York City has its obsession with productivity, power, and money. Los Angeles is one draft kombucha away from turning me off dating for good. And in the deep South, I often get asked where I'm "from," despite being born and raised in the United States.
The truth? Dating sucks everywhere, so we might as well have fun with it. And if there's one thing Miami gets right, it's how to embrace our flaws and have a good time. Like the time a date put his convertible top down and blasted Phil Collin's "In the Air Tonight" while we sped over 1-95 in twilight, à la Miami Vice. (On the third date, he admitted to having a girlfriend — we'd already slept together — but that's a story for another day.)
