c/o Eliza Austin

c/o Eliza Austin

In the weeks leading up to the school year, I bought a planner in hopes of getting organized. Every week, I scribble little to-dos in the margins: “send essay preferences for war class” and “sign up for Pi shifts,” just to name a few. 

On this week’s page under Tuesday, Sept. 12, it said: “find some mf blind dates!!!”

This weekend, to christen our new home, my housemates and I dreamt up what some call a “dinner party” and what others call a “blind date singles event.” It was both, really. It was our very own Blind Date Dinner Party. The dress code? Black tie.

“We were talking about how it’s hard to meet people [at the University], especially people you don’t know,” Abby Glassman ’24, a participant, said. “And then once that conversation started, it was just a domino effect.”

An idea was born.

“We have a house of six people,” one of my housemates Georgia Gerber ’24 said. “Three are in monogamous relationships, and three are quite far from a monogamous relationship.”

The three residents of our house who are in relationships were tasked with selecting and inviting blind dates for the three eligible singles, assisted by their significant others.

Another housemate, Eliza Austin ’24, who is already happily spoken for, discussed potential blind dates for the singles with her girlfriend, Leza Rooks ’26. She asked her for suggestions and thoughts on potential candidates.

“She would tell me, ‘Oh, no, they’re in my grade, and I don’t think they would make sense for this person,’ or, ‘This person would be great,’” Austin said. “We were just kind of bouncing ideas around based on people we know or people we’d heard of. And that’s how it came to be.”

The couples also did most of the cooking and preparation so as to keep the singles as calm and happy as possible.

“All of us were doing our own little piece or flexing our own creative muscles,” Gerber said. “Like, Leza did the cards because she has beautiful penmanship and different people were doing other things that suited their interests.”

Another significant other, Calum Wolfe-Thompson ’25, proudly listed his contributions.

“I was responsible, principally, for finding one of the blind dates, which happened to be my friend,” Wolfe-Thompson said. “I was used as a messenger. Additionally, I served the cocktails and helped grate parmesan.”

The finishing touches were collegiate-tasteful: vodka-lime tonics without ice because we forgot to refill the ice trays in the freezer; a beer pong table covered in a white sheet, decorated with candles and freshly picked flowers; and twelve heaping servings of Gigi Hadid Pasta.

“It’s so fun to christen your space with festivity and fun,” Gerber said. “And also, in our house, we love to do girly stuff. A date event? That is such, like, a girl thing! Not that it’s exclusively for girls, but it was so girly and flirty and fun.”

When asked about the days leading up to the dinner party, Gerber reflected on her evolving feelings.

“The anticipation was actually one of the most fun parts of the process,” Gerber said. “I loved the thought of the three of you, Sonia [Menken ’24], Ella, and Eliza, working together and getting to know each other while picking our dates.”

Beyond meeting new people and potential romantic interests, every housemate I spoke with highlighted how they appreciated the Blind Date Dinner Party primarily as a bonding moment for our house.

“We had this fun thing that we’re all working towards, Glassman said.“The event was so fun, and I really think it was just a good excuse to bring people together.”

So here’s my suggestion to you, dear reader, and your friends (or housemates, if you have them): whether you’re single and sick of dating apps, stuck with the same old options, or you’re bored in your relationship and wish to live vicariously through your single friends, throw your own version of a Blind Date Dinner Party!

Even if you simply want to get to know your loved ones a little better by breaking bread and sharing a new experience, I’d urge you to give it a good old college try. I promise that you won’t regret it.


Ella Henn can be reached at ehenn@wesleyan.edu