The Offline Movement harks back to a time of pre-app (IRL) dating. Credit: COLLAGE ART BY ANTHONY KEO AND JESSICA STEIN; PHOTOS COURTESY OF NASA AMES RESEARCH CENTER AND THE OFFLINE MOVEMENT

The Offline Movement harks back to a time of pre-app (IRL) dating.

The Offline Movement harks back to a time of pre-app (IRL) dating. COLLAGE ART BY ANTHONY KEO AND JESSICA STEIN; PHOTOS COURTESY OF NASA AMES RESEARCH CENTER AND THE OFFLINE MOVEMENT

When you first fire up a dating app, the universe seems full of possibility. You’re playing a no-stakes game of hot-or-not on a website full of single people extremely excited to tell you how tall they are. Matching with a cool-looking person does approximate the thrill of catching an eye across the room. And scrutinizing the wild profiles of weirdos and the shockingly basic profiles of normals is a bottomless joy.

If you’re still on the apps six months later, however, you come to the realization that you’ve outsourced your romantic life to a data-collection service. Six months after that, you’ve deleted and re-downloaded the app more times than you can count, because what else is there? By then, you’re probably not even going on dates. You’re just swiping to score that dopamine hit from matching with a stranger. It’s pitiful.

Rich Smith is The Stranger's former News Editor. He writes about politics, books, and performance. You can read his poems at www.richsmithpoetry.com