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In the Age of Apps, Does an LA Matchmaker Work? Los angeles times dating’m at Urth Caffé in West Hollywood and I can’t stop fidgeting.

I’m waiting to meet someone — a date! I’m hoping that the right arrangement of my hands will lead to everlasting love. I haven’t met this woman before, I didn’t swipe right on her, and we don’t have any friends in common. That sounds both impressive and horrifying, but it’s true.

She was selected for me by a matchmaker. How did it come to this? I’ve lived in LA, on and off, for about four years now. During most of that time, I’ve been wildly, definitively, stubbornly single. The offline dating scene hasn’t worked any better for me.

I’ve found LA bars to be either total meat markets with music too loud for conversation or dark bars tucked into weird corners of town for hardcore drinkers. I don’t go to the gym enough or do yoga or whatever people do now to meet women during exercise. As a freelance writer, I work alone most of the time, so no chance for co-worker hook-ups. Los Angeles is a great city and I love it, but, man, it gets so damn lonely sometimes. I randomly met a matchmaker for the matchmaking service Three Day Rule at a Purim party at a synagogue in Bel Air. I don’t live in Bel Air.

I wound up at the event because my friend works at the synagogue and was organizing the party. I was sure I’d like that, too! Plus, there was fried chicken, an open bar, a DJ. I might have been less surprised if she was looking to swing.

And, more to the point, she wanted to make a match for me. But Adelle saw something else: a funny guy with a quick wit who had found a little knot of friends in the most unlikely places. Maybe, she thought, there was something there. And she wanted to work with me. Back at Urth Caffé, I wait patiently. The café is loud, maybe too loud.

I instantly regret choosing it — I sort of regret all my life choices up until this point. But that’s a normal Tuesday for me. Before the shame spiral really gets spiraling, she walks in, all dressed in blue. Physically, she’s just my type: the right height, the right curves, a killer smile. Maybe this will actually work out.

That is, if I don’t screw it up. I met with Adelle at a café in Studio City. It looked like a casual coffee between friends, but it was really the first step in the matchmaking process. Eventually, we turned to the task at hand: what was I looking for? And really, what was I looking for?

When you’re trying to date, we kind of skip this step. It was definitely the longest I’d thought about it in specific. Adelle was great, totally non-judgmental about my quirks and oddities. We got down to the nitty gritty: how much would all of this cost? 6,000 for six months with a minimum of six. If the first one hits the mark, awesome.

If not, you and your matchmaker will keep working until you get it right. Once I’d finished the questionnaire, the matchmaking began. And that meant waiting for matches. TDR clients, even those working with other matchmakers. Adelle kept me posted, and let me know when she was close to finding a date for me. There were one or two possibilities, but they weren’t quite right.

Working with Adelle totally upended how I felt about dating in LA. She’s basically looking for someone good enough for me — and when I’m on my own, I’m mostly looking for someone who can stand me for more than five minutes. After a few weeks, it happened. I get to know each other. It’s all pretty standard first date stuff. She tells the same kind of story as mine: LA dating is a tar pit, she was looking for something different, a friend connected her to TDR.