Gone are the days of dimly lit first dates, swiping right and “you up?” texts. This Valentine’s Day, San Franciscans went shopping for a different kind of snack at their local Trader Joe’s.
Based on the number of name tags handed out, nearly 400 singles showed up at the Hayes Valley Trader Joe’s on Thursday evening with the hope of finding love — a testament to the allure of forming in-person connections even in the mecca of AI.
The mastermind behind this one-of-a-kind dating event was Maggie Carroll, a 26 year-old government auditor. She decided to organize it on a whim.
Inspired by a former roommate who once declared, in the throes of a breakup, that she would just go to Trader Joe’s and ask someone out, Carroll was convinced the strategy had legs.
Promoted largely on the event-planning app Partiful, the “Trader Joe’s Lonely Hearts Club” night took shape.
“Ever spot a sexy single in the frozen section?” the invite asked. Attendees were told to wear green to the grocery store, which did not officially sanction the event but was aware of it, and respectfully “flirt to your heart’s content” over seasonal produce. They could then continue onward to other bars in the neighborhood to “debrief.”
Carroll assumed that, other than a few strangers, she would have to cajole her own network to come to the event — it was her first time hosting an event like this. But by noon on Thursday, 479 people had marked themselves as “Going.” 365 as “Interested” and 354 as “Maybe.”
“Trader Joe’s is kind of a flirty grocery store, no?” said Carroll.
The event started at 7 p.m. but a crowd was building half an hour early. Carroll and her two friends, Destiny and Catherine had set up a check-in table outside the Trader Joe’s entrance on Laguna Street.
Franny, a 28-year-old woman who arrived early, was invited by a friend. She was a veteran of grocery store romance.
“Years ago, I got asked out by someone at a Trader Joe’s,” she said. The suitor’s pick-up line was a subtle “Can I have the key to your heart? I mean, cart!”
“I’m not sure what order it was but I thought it was so funny,” she said. “So I’m feeling positive about tonight.”
Organizers handed out name tags and stickers so participants could indicate their sexual preferences. They also divided the groups to stagger entry and not overwhelm the grocery store with sheer numbers. By 8 p.m. the line of hopefuls stretched around the block.
Inside the store, employees watched, slightly aghast, as wave after wave of green quarterzips and cableknit sweaters buzzed about the aisles, chatting up a storm. Regular customers looked around in confusion, many too shy to ask what was going on.
Next to the almost sold-out flower section, Pi, Chelsea and Mia met in-person for the first time. The three were members of the internet-famous Reddit and Discord channel SFbitcheswithtaste, an online community trading local tips and lifestyle recommendations. When another member sent the Partiful for the mixer on their channel, the trio decided to go.
“What stands out about this is the location: It’s so low stakes. It’s not one of those speed dating things where you go in with expectations of finding love,” said Chelsea, 28. She was just here getting groceries and making friends at the same time — “habit stacking” even, she said.
As an adult, there are very few opportunities to freely socialize without pressurizing contexts like networking, said Pi.
Like many others in the store, Pi carried a single long-stemmed rose with a tag attached. Part of the programming for the night included icebreakers and ongoing games, one of which was the “Rose game.”
Participants could grab roses at the check-in table that each came with attached descriptions of a person. For example “surfer” or “likes trivia.” The goal was to find individuals who matched those descriptions, and pass on the rose to them.
If you happened to connect, exchange numbers and schedule a date, the would-be couple could keep the rose.
The game worked. Lorena, 29, who works in marketing and is a freelance filmmaker, passed on her yellow rose with “reads nonfiction” to Stephen Pon, a 32-year-old studying fashion design. A few minutes earlier, Lorena had exchanged numbers with the previous owner of that same yellow rose when they had passed it on to her.
Lorena, for her part, craved in-person connection. “We need to practice the art of communication,” she said. “Nobody wants to fucking talk to anybody anymore.”
Stephen said the event reminded him of a similar one held at a Costco last year. But since that was a marketing stunt by an AI dating startup, it did not have the same “quirkiness” as this one, he said.
While not endorsed by Trader Joe’s, Carroll said that she had approached the store a while ago to let its staff know about the event. At the time, employees seemed receptive — in fact, some asked if they could participate even on their shifts.
But the ratios were off. Few attendees filled their shopping baskets, and it seemed enough to make management reconsider its generosity.
Workers worried that customers might be upset by the intrusion.
“I can see why they would think that but I’m mostly just happy that [people] are having fun,” said Mary Muster, 36, who works as a hairstylist in the city and was simply shopping at Trader Joe’s that night.
Jack Anderson, 26, who was coincidentally wearing a green hoodie, and Maggie Sweeney, his 25-year-old girlfriend, were two more unassuming customers caught in the flurry of flirting. They both said that they’ve never seen these many people at Trader Joe’s, but loved it.
“People are really chatting. They are really engaged. So I think it’s pretty successful!” said Sweeney.
Even beyond romance, if all your friends are in relationships, it’s hard to find single friends – and such events could help with that, she said.
Not everyone was as enthused by the open-ended structure of the mixer. Abu Talha, 29, made the drive from South Bay to Trader Joe’s. He was mildly disappointed.
“It’s nice but at this point I’m looking into more serious dating. For that, it is a bit unstructured,” he said, admitting that maybe a more conventional format of speed-dating might suit his goals better.
As the night wore on, Carroll continued to use Partiful to organize and shuffle groups of people around. Those who entered first were asked to exit and move on to Patricia’s Green, the patch of urban parkland a few minutes away.
As Trader Joe’s slowly went back to its regular programming, Patricia’s Green came alive with hundreds of singles, some snacking on recently acquired groceries.
“It was so positive. It went really well. I’m so happy with the turnout,” said Carroll as participants continuously stopped by to thank her for organizing the night’s festivities.
“I’m looking forward to keeping the party going,” she said.