Search the Article Archive: 1981-Present » Search the Article Archive: 1851-1980 » Accessing and Purchasing Articles — 1923–1980: Your digital subscription includes 100 archive articles every four weeks in this date range (from January 1, 1923 through December 31, 1980).
“I get sick from gluten.” This doesn’t put them off, at least not at first. At first, they want to sleep with you no matter what. But I hadn’t deleted my dating profile, only disabled it. They’d heard about some students at Harvard who’d come up with a program called Operation Match, which used a computer to find dates for people. She makes Quiche Lorraine, plays chess, and like me she loves to ski. ”One day, a woman named Patricia Lahrmer, from 1010 WINS, a local radio station, came to to do an interview.A year later, Altfest and Ross had a prototype, which they called Project , an acronym for Technical Automated Compatibility Testing—New York City’s first computer-dating service. She was the station’s first female reporter, and she had chosen, as her début feature, a three-part story on how New York couples meet.Sitting at her headquarters — the large oak dining table in her classically decorated apartment — she showed me a folder on her i Phone home screen titled “WORK.” Inside, there are a dozen dating apps, like Bumble, The League, JSwipe, and Ok Cupid.
Golden logs in and out of all of them throughout each day, finding her clients appropriate matches and setting up first dates.
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I can no longer listen to 29-year-olds who don’t have full-time jobs make self-deprecating remarks. We could be cranky together, console each other that we still looked young. Instead, after a tepid kiss by the East River with the most recent 29-year-old, I deleted every dating app from my phone.
“It’s the real thing, not part of the gluten-free fad,” I say. Even after I stopped missing my ex, every blind date I went on seemed emotionally exhausting in a way that I hadn’t remembered.
In the fall of 1964, on a visit to the World’s Fair, in Queens, Lewis Altfest, a twenty-five-year-old accountant, came upon an open-air display called the Parker Pen Pavilion, where a giant computer clicked and whirred at the job of selecting foreign pen pals for curious pavilion visitors. Within a year, more than five thousand subscribers had signed on. It would invite dozens of matched couples to singles parties, knowing that people might be more comfortable in a group setting. They wound up in the pages of the New York subscriber.