Looking for love on the Peninsula Looking for love on the Peninsula (February 06, 2004)

Singles hit the bars -- and the Internet

By Julie O'Shea

One free drink from some random guy, that was the mission -- simple, unpretentious, yet empowering.

And I blew it.

"What can I get you," asked Nate, the bartender at Ugly's, Mountain View's newest trashy-chic dive on the El Camino Real.

It was just past 5 p.m. on Tuesday evening, and the joint was nearly empty. My only "prospect" -- a dirty blonde, thirty-something -- had looked up briefly when I walked in but quickly shifted his eyes back to the television screen.

Now truly disheartened with the task ahead of me and slightly embarrassed that I was hauling around an oversized notebook, I ordered a diet Coke and quickly explained that I wanted to interview a few of the city's finest eligible bachelors, only they seem to have all gone AWOL.

"Where are they hiding out?" I demanded.

Nate laughed as he plopped the diet soda down in front of me, but it was his girlfriend, the pretty girl with long brown hair seated on the other side of the bar, who answered.

"Honestly," she said without a hint of sarcasm, "all you have to do is go out with your friends and have a good time, and you'll get a lot of guys coming up to you."

Yeah, right. I'd like to know where she hangs out.

According to the latest U.S. Census, there are more than 20,000 singles living in Mountain View. Many of them seem to have found their way to the Internet, where, on various Web sites, they unabashedly moan about how cruel the Northern California dating scene has become.

Part of the problem, said Match.com's Kathleen Roldan, is that singles in the Bay Area tend to have high expectations for their potential mates -- they want them smart and wealthy.

The online dating giant recently did a survey asking singles to rate how easy it is to find love in San Jose; just 5 percent said their chances for romance were "excellent," while 33 percent said the prospects of finding a soul mate in the South Bay was "fair" at best. Interestingly, 64 percent called themselves "a great catch with a lot to offer."

I decided I needed to look into this first-hand and posted an ad on one popular dating site.

My personal ad said I was seeking out the Peninsula singles scene and asked if anyone had any advice.

"For what it's worth," I added, " my height and weight are proportionate (read: I am not a cow) ... but I'm hoping you're seeking more than just beauty. If you're not don't bother replying."

Surprisingly, the posting fetched more than 100 responses from men all claiming they weren't "tech-geeks."

I didn't make a date with any of them, but I was intrigued by how detailed their responses were.

"I'm not a club/bar person myself, so it's even harder to find someone nowadays," wrote Alex, 26. "Seems like school was the place to find people, but that's such a long time ago, and everyone taking classes now is so young anyways."

My favorite came from another guy who said, "If you ever find out where the singles hang out, please let me know."

This apparently is the $64,000 question no one seems to be able to answer, but for just a little more than $1,000 a year, you can join other hopeful singles at Table for Six Total Adventures, which has an office on Castro Street in downtown Mountain View. The service pairs up three men and three women with similar interests for an evening of good food and socializing, and according to CEO Julie Paiva, its love connection track record is phenomenal.

Paiva blames the competitive environment of the Silicon Valley for the so-called dating doldrums. She points out that everyone here is working so many long hours that they rarely have time to think about finding a soul mate.

Back at Ugly's, Carrie, the bar's bubbly co-owner, claims she's been searching for her soulmate for years, and she's worn out.

"I won't date Marines. I won't date actors or a guy who has hair longer than me or guys who are skinner than me," she said, rattling off an extensive laundry list.

But this talk is deceptive. A few minutes earlier, Carrie admitted she's been seeing a new guy, someone she's know for a few years. It's too soon to say what this might turn into, but she crosses her fingers and said she hopes he'll call.

"Of course, he will call," Carrie says reassuringly.

"Look at me," she lamented. "I'm a 28-year-old bar owner, and it took me three years to get one date with this guy."

E-mail Julie O'Shea at joshea@mv-voice.com

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