Hookup culture has been the norm for a long time now, but could COVID 19 bring back dating?

When my kids were young, we lived in a university town. I had been in a sorority when I was in college, so I contacted the local chapter to see if there was anyone there who babysat. “Sure, we have lots of sisters who babysit,” was the reply I hoped for and received. The email went on to explain they had an internal listserv. I could email the listserv and whoever was available would take the job.

I was a little leery of this random selection of babysitters at first and wanted to meet anyone who would be watching my sons first, before they showed up to babysit. I am not exaggerating when I tell you I met one wonderful student after another and eventually gave in to their system—whoever showed up was my sons’ “favorite babysitter ever,” until the next one showed up and received that title.

There were some interesting similarities between the young women. All, and I mean all of them, drove either a BMW or Lexus SUV. I would ask them why they took babysitting jobs when clearly, if they have the funds for a high-priced SUV, they must have sufficient spending money. Again, all had the same answer: the car used to be their mom’s and they received it when their mom got a new car. Another similarity I found interesting, but my Southern friends wouldn’t understand why, was their names. We met Anne Howard, Ashley Reynolds, Mary Williams and countless other double first name ladies. Yes, I learned early, “It’s Anne Howard, not Anne.” This is a fairly common practice in the South, and I found it utterly charming.

What I learned from each of these bright, kind, beautiful souls is not only did they not have boyfriends, they also didn’t have dates. “It’s not really like that anymore,” they would explain. “Students now kind of just, you know, hookup.” When asked for a more in-depth explanation, I learned the hookup goes like this: maybe you and the other person have been circling each other on social media, a “like” here, a comment there. Then, you see each other at a party or a bar. You occasionally make eye contact, but there’s no conversation initially. Once you have each imbibed sufficient alcohol or smoked the necessary amount of weed, and it’s getting close to the end of the evening, you leave together, go back to one of your dorm rooms or apartments, have sex. And then this is the kicker — the next day, you do not for any reason, acknowledge each other.

If you see the person you had sex with last night, you can possibly nod in their direction, maybe go out on a limb with a wave, but you CAN NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES speak to them.

I would hear this version of contemporary mating practices among humans and shake my head. “You can’t say hello? You just had sex with them? Why can’t you greet them?” Nothing dates you like suggesting conversation the day after sex. “They would call you a stalker,” was the response, “you get labelled as crazy or psycho” was another common refrain. Each of these women wanted a relationship but were stuck in a Catch 22: they would be completely dropped by the guy if they didn’t have sex, but if they had sex, all they could really hope for was another night with the same situation –social media flirtation, eye contact, complete drunkenness followed by sex followed by ignoring each other.

“It’s social media and the phone,” one brilliant co-ed explained, “my generation can’t do intimacy.”

The dilemma I saw, was the guys were telling their own version of the same thing. I have sons. Their friends were all looking for “the one.” They wanted girlfriends. They wanted someone to spend time with, go out with, watch a movie with – they wanted to change their status to “in a relationship.” I heard story after story of, “I asked her if she wanted to meet for coffee. She said yes but then cancelled. She’s all over me at 2a.m. though.” “We were going to meet for lunch. She blew me off, and then wrote to me the next day and wanted to meet. We set a time, but she blew me off again. She kept hitting me up, but I’ve blocked her.”

If you see a young couple today, they are a modern relationship miracle.

Most relationships among young people seem to have long runways but never take off. So, let’s go back to my original question — is COVID 19 going to be the great disruptor to hookup culture? There are no more crowded bars in which to hide from each other until the clock strikes 2a.m. If you are actually going to meet someone in person, you may opt for an outdoor space –maybe a walk or lunch at an outdoor café to limit your exposure to the virus. It might be just the two of you. You could be seen in public on a date. Yikes. This has to be hard for young people who are used to looking at screens, doing shots and superficial sex.

How could this possibly work? Let’s say you connect on Tinder by swiping a certain way – left, right? I don’t know. I’m married. You swipe the correct way. You find the person on whatever social media platform that is current. You like their stuff. Let’s say, you see they are right now, at a bar near you in one of their pictures. You decide you will go there too. You are going to slip in the door and then stand there, exposed, because the bar is at 50% capacity! They can see you. It is obvious you like them and wanted to meet up with them. Oh my stars, intimacy is closing in on you.

This is where I might be able to offer some guidance. It’s ages old wisdom, from back in the 80’s, the 1980’s: you can talk to them even if you are not completely drunk. It’s possible. I have seen it happen. Granted, those occasions are now featured in museums, but they show the human potential for connection prior to just sleeping with someone. What will it take? Courage? yes. Bravery? yes. A willingness to be vulnerable? Yes. Brene Brown might be your girl right about now. Watch her videos, listen to her podcast, read her books. Don’t fear vulnerability – it takes a certain amount of courage to be vulnerable, and you have it in you. We all do.

Another standard fare from the old-time dating scene is the “my friend likes you” proxy. You aren’t telling them you like them. Your friend is. The person doesn’t like you back? “What were you thinking, I don’t like them, why did you say that?” is your pretend canned response to your friend who carried the message. Then, your friend goes back and explains the message was for someone else, or they heard wrong, whatever. Presto, magic-o, the like take-back has been launched and delivered.

It’s awkward. It’s all awkward, which is why you will probably consume more alcohol in your single years then you will throughout multiple decades of marriage. Is intimacy, knowing someone and true connection worth it? You know it is, and so does the person you like right now. Go out on a limb and tell them. Ask them to meet you for a socially distant walk. If it doesn’t work out, I promise the funniest stories are the rejection stories. They will keep you laughing long after you have forgotten the person who rejected you.