“There’s one over there,” she said, and pointed to a man in a plaid shirt and cargo shorts who was sitting alone. “So I give them my cell-phone number.” “Maybe I should get a second cell phone,” Carol wondered aloud. “If you both see each other and express interest in one another, you get a message saying, ‘It’s a Stitch! “So it eliminates the feeling of rejection, and also clears your inbox.” “Your system has an algorithm to make sure?
If you don’t cultivate your social connections as you get older, they’ll shrink. And then we meet again at night.” Margalit, perhaps her hearing having failed, asked Fred, “Do you want a bunch of women hanging out with you guys?
People will move to Florida.” His voice trailed off. ” Fred, bashful and a little confused, shook his head.
“Or whatever.” Rogo successfully recruited the male, whose name was Fred, and collected the group around a table set in front of a large screen. “Saturdays I have meetings with friends of mine,” he said. “Um.” Vivian, who has been through two twenty-year marriages, isn’t looking for another husband. She recently went on a trip to Africa, and upon her return decided to try online dating to find men who are the right age (eighty is too old, fifty too young) and from Manhattan (more attractive than the guys from Brooklyn she’s met).
The Senior Planet Exploration Center, which opened last year on West Twenty-fifth Street, boasts of being “the country’s first tech-themed senior center.” One afternoon, I stepped inside to find patrons—mostly women in their seventies and eighties—hunched over desktops and reading i Pads at a conference table. In a corner near the back, Marcie Rogo and Andrew Dowling, young folks, were preparing to tell the seniors about their startup, a Web site called
You could call it a dating site for the elderly, but they prefer to call it a place to find “companionship.” Don’t confuse them with Stitch.com, “Your guide to the embroidery world! Arlene and Carol had long hair, well styled, and ample mascara.
Vivian, who told me that she is legally blind, wore an oversized blue T-shirt, black pants, and polka-dot socks.
Kera, who didn’t say much, had on a simple black dress and a colorful scarf.
Margalit, who had short, curly hair, flirted with Dowling—“Are you married? They all belong to a group called It Takes Two, which is devoted to pursuing and meeting single men online. “We invite men from the dating sites, and we provide the wine.” “The ladies are pretty passionate,” Dowling said. ” “That’s what we were just talking about, ” Rogo replied. ” Kera blushed and said, “It does and it doesn’t at the same time.” So it is with technology and with dating: with all their peculiarities, the imbalance of expertise, and those moments at which one is made to feel totally at a loss in the face of a blank stare, or screen. And they get accosted by Ukrainian prostitutes and people looking for green cards.” The women nodded.
He is in his forties, Australian, and lean, with silver gray hair. “There are a lot of good men out there,” Rogo pressed on. After the presentation, Margalit told me, “Dating is not fun.
Turning to Rogo, he said, looking around the room, “I believe they’re all female.” “Hopefully some males will come,” Rogo said. I mean, every single night.” Rogo began the product demonstration: how to set up a profile on Stitch, post a photo, tag your interests, and have your identity verified.
She once worked at a senior center, and describes herself as a lifelong anti-ageist. “If they send you a photo, you have to be really careful, because they can hack into your computer,” Arlene said. You can look at other people’s profiles and click on the ones you like, but you can’t communicate with someone unless he likes you, too.