The Bevy offers its exclusive services to well-heeled clients in Manhattan and Los Angeles; while it's free for women, men pony up ,000 or more for a membership.
Putting such a hefty price tag on finding love might be an impossibility for some (or just deeply off-putting to others), but there's still much about The Bevy's more traditional approach to setting up potential mates that can enlighten those suffering from online-dating burnout.
While he was not unkind, he seemed really out of it and alone. When he went in for a hug, I ducked away and down the stairs.
The kicker: He sent a text the next day, expressing what a lovely time he’d had.
If the idea of matchmaking strikes you as a horribly antiquated concept in the era of online dating, consider this: a recent study from the University of Michigan determined that couples who met online were less likely to forge committed relationships than those who met IRL (that's "in real life" in pre-Internet terms).
That finding isn't likely to surprise Greta Tufvesson, who cofounded upscale matchmaking service The Bevy along with partner Nikki Lewis.
But perhaps the greatest issue is that it’s impossible to weed out all of the crazies from calculated photos and pithy messages alone.
Things started out fine, but it quickly became clear that this guy was a stage five crazy. All he could talk about was how messed-up society is. Or how about this one: my friend Amanda* thought she’d found a great guy online. This one was such a nightmare because it made me so sad— the last thing you want to feel after a first date.
He told Mara that she should do ayahuasca, and accused her of “not being in the moment.” Then, when she said, “Thanks for this, but I’m going to go,” he got hostile. She was living in Santa Fe; he was in Albuquerque, about an hour’s drive south. They had tons of things in common, and he was cute and smiled a lot in his photos. With some trepidation, Amanda met him at a taco place. Most disturbing was that he’d portrayed himself to be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but he was actually super glum. I had lined up a date with a man who gave great profile picture. We’d exchanged a handful of messages — enough to make me think he was smart and sane, and I was excited to meet him.
But every time they discussed meeting, he’d pull out at the last minute. From the minute he walked in, she knew something was wrong. Within five minutes, he admitted that he’d been hesitant to meet Amanda because he was married. We agreed to meet for coffee at a place in New York, where I would be writing all afternoon.
After this happened three times, Amanda figured he was probably a scary old guy or something. My first hint that something was off was that he texted to say he’d be 20 to 25 minutes late just before our designated meeting time.