Dating apps have never been my thing. I much prefer to meet people out at happy hour, or through a friend, or on an airplane. I’ve even gone out with two people I met on the road while driving. (They were in the car next to me. We spoke at stoplights. And yes, in case you’re wondering, this is partly why I’m not the best driver and why Mike came along with me on my book tour. I’m completely guilty of looking at who’s in the cute pickup in front of me instead of focusing on what the speed limit . . .
I am someone who has always preferred to look for love. After my gap year in college, which I took to write the first draft of Waiting at Hayden’s, I was debating transferring schools. I hadn’t loved the school I’d started at for many reasons, one being that I hadn’t seen anyone on campus I was remotely excited about dating at some point during the next several years. Yes, I know I wasn’t going to school to meet someone, but I didn’t want to be somewhere for three more years where there . . .
A while back I spoke with a guy who said he’s not dating because it’s too expensive. “It’s not the same for women,” he said. “You just have to show up and everything’s paid for.” His first point was valid. In Orange County a cocktail alone can cost upwards of $18 and a ticket to a movie, $22. (Fun Fact: when I first moved to the OC and went to a matinee alone, I was sure the cashier misheard me and rang me up for two tickets when he told me the cost. “I just need one,” I reiterated. “That is . . .