FLIRTING THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY

In the modern world, people are just a swipe, like, woof or tap away from a potential partner. While that certainly has its benefits, Chris Rooke outlines the negative impact dating apps can have on treasured queer spaces.

There’s always a little thrill when you see that notification on your home screen. Perhaps they’ve texted back, seeing your suggestive message and raising you a flirtatious innuendo. Or maybe it’s someone reaching out for the first time, that satisfying sense of being seen and desired makes your heart beat that little bit faster. They could be your soulmate, or a summer romance, or a fun night’s entertainment that you’ll recount to your friends over cocktails the weekend after.

Dating and hookup apps of course provide connection, both literal and metaphorical, to LGBTQ+ people, allowing them to feel less alone wherever they are and with the promise (however real) of meeting someone for whatever it is you’re looking for. But for all their convenience, they have also regularly been attributed as one of the leading threats to in-person community spaces, including community centres, bars, and saunas; both the venues and their events, but also the ability for LGBTQ+ people to feel equipped and able to spontaneously meet each other in those spaces.

“I think queer clubbing in general, when it comes to cruising, hookups and dating, has been affected overall,” remarks Candy Warhol, part of the Mockie Ah group that runs cabaret and drag events, as well as the Please! club night in Cork. “As we veer more into clubbing territory, we are seeing more hookups and flirting at our events, but from what we’ve seen, the majority of younger people tend to be shyer when approaching each other. They instead opt for texting each other on apps while in the same room. Millennials, for example, experienced online dating but mostly met each other when on the dance floor or smoking area and flirted in person.

“There was more excitement and tension in the space. There’s not as much excitement when you’re sitting down, staring at your phone while an entire club night or experience is happening around you.”

Dáire Collins, Duty Manager at Wilde nightclub (also in Cork), agrees with Candy’s observations. “I think that apps definitely take out the organic nature of bumping into someone, but also seem to be utilised as a tool while on nights out,” he explains. “They seem to remove that interaction that would’ve existed before the dating apps became utilised in queer spaces. As there isn’t a lesbian equivalent for Grindr, we’ve noticed that lesbians make more in-person or in-the-moment connections at Wilde.”

Perhaps the most direct comparison for Grindr’s use as a hookup app is a sauna. The most recent European Men who have Sex with Men Internet Survey (EMIS) results from Ireland in 2017 (the 2024 survey results have yet to be published) showed that while 69.1 per cent of respondents met their most recent non-steady partner on an app or online, the next most likely location was a sauna—albeit with a sharp drop-off at 6.5 per cent.

Yet the team from The Boilerhouse in Dublin haven’t seen a huge impact on their business. “A lot of our clientele would be of an older generation, shall we say. They will come here regardless because they don’t believe in apps or stufflike that,” explains Gary, Assistant Manager of the sauna. But that’s not to say that the apps aren’t also in use in the venue as a means of making that initial connection, similar to the bars. “You’ll see younger guys sitting around here having a coffee, and they’re on Grindr,” recalls James, Manager of the venue. “A guy will come in and he’ll hand you his phone and say, is this person here? We can’t say—that’s their business. So we just say sorry, and he’ll say, ‘Well, I think he’s after ghosting me.’ We get that quite a bit.”

Maybe more surprising is how The Boilerhouse has found itself as a complement to dating and hookup apps, with this being magnified due to the housing crisis. “Younger people, they’re still coming here after a club, but a lot of them would probably be from Grindr hookups,” explains Gary. “They might not have anywhere to go. They’re living with eight to 10 people in a two-bedroom house or something. So we’re a good port of call for that. In that sense, there’s a double standard: it affects us, but yet we gain from it.”

The rising cost of living is having a different type of impact on clubs and parties, especially when there’s the alternative of staying at home and hooking up digitally. “The majority of our nights need to feel like a spectacle in order to sell,” says Candy. “When people are spending their money now, it needs to feel like a major event and a special occasion for them. So we definitely have more of a quality over quantity approach at the moment.”

Dáire has experienced a similar set of expectations from audiences when choosing to spend a night in Wilde. “There has to be a certain appeal for customers to show up. Previously, if we opened earlier than our normal operating hours and there was not some form of entertainment, many people would not come into the venue. With rising costs for businesses, there is a very tough line between opening earlier to provide safe spaces for the entire community and ensuring that costs are being covered. Many know that the entry fee for Wilde is covering a drag show, or karaoke, or a live singer, and a DJ until late, whereas other venues that charge an entry fee may only provide a DJ.”

Even while they’ve been able to offer an alternative space for hookups—digital or in-person—to those who find themselves unable to host, The Boilerhouse is also facing pressures to up their game. “There’s a new pool going in just after Pride, and we’re extending 70 square metres next door to cater for the different niches and different fantasies that people have,” tells James. “We have to adapt to the new group of people that come along. The older guys are happy with what we have up here. But the newer guys that are more well-travelled will say, ‘Why don’t you have this?’”

But while the housing crisis gives a reason to use The Boilerhouse, other venues are struggling to get younger people out for a night. Candy puts the phenomenon down, at least partly, to lost time during the Covid lockdowns, and the primacy of using tech to socialise that they introduced. “We have a spin-off club-night, Please!, and new smaller social events aimed at a younger crowd, and these are tougher sell,” she says. “We found that for those who turned 18 during the lockdown, it was tougher for them to come to events as they had missed out on those formative years and socialising with friends their age through school and college. College students are now one of the toughest markets to sell tickets to. We think this is a mix of missing out on their last year of school or first year or two of college when they attended class over Zoom, the cost of living, and social media now playing a major role in socialising.”

So, what can community bars, clubs, and latenight spaces offer to ensure their longevity? For The Boilerhouse team, one thing is top of mind: “Safety. Safety. Safety,” says Conor, Assistant Manager. “I live alone and I could bring someone home if I wanted to, but I don’t always feel safe bringing someone home, so there’s always going to be a need for places like this.”

“It’s good that there’s a safe space that they can get,” adds Gary. “They’re not going to Phoenix Park or they’re not going down to Christchurch or somewhere unsafe, at least they can come in here.”

There’s also the opportunity for additional services, particularly around sexual health. “We have condoms throughout the building. We have testing facilities here on a Saturday, and we’re soon to have our own little room with the HSE. We work very closely with MPOWER here, too,” says Gary.

For bars and clubs that aren’t offering services in the same way as The Boilerhouse, Candy argues that there’s still reason to get out and into queer venues rather than staying at home swiping or tapping. “In-person community spaces are vital for everyone,” she says. “It’s where friends and memories are made. They shape who we are. It’s good for our mental health to be out of the house and around people, around our own tribe. Whether it’s a daytime or evening event, a club night, cabaret or theatre show, a sober event or one that includes alcohol, there are plenty of choices out there for everyone. It might take you a few attempts to find what’s the best fit for you, of course.

“It’s also important for people to attend events so that they can keep happening. We need these spaces, events and the artists and organisers who run them.

“You’re never going to look back and remember that night you spent scrolling on your phone. For better or for worse, you’re going to remember that cabaret or club night you went to.”