An evening at the NYC-DSA Summer Isn’t Over Yet Singles Mixer
These socialists are sweating.
When the NYC Democratic Socialists of America booked the whimsically intimate Lower East Side cocktail bar Apartment 5 for the Summer Isn’t Over Yet Singles Mixer, they figured a fair number of the people who RSVP’d “yes” would flake.
But in an era when fascism is ascendent and dating is everyone’s least favorite phone game, it seems there’s something potent about combining progressive politics and IRL meet-cute potential. As a result, the cozy space is reaching a roughly tropical climate. It’s packed with around 150 twenty- and thirty-somethings wearing everything from blazers and ties to leather bustiers and tutus, all sweating on and shouting at one another—consensually, of course—in pursuit of love.
“I like these guys,” bar manager Francois tells me over the din. He’s smiling as he surveys the packed house, where attendees wear red nametags if they’re seeking femme-presenting people, blue nametags if they’re seeking masc-presenting people, and shiny gold if they’re open to chatting with whomever (or as Kaitlynn F., chair of the NYC-DSA fundraising committee, puts it playfully while explaining the system to the crowd, “if they’re fun.”)
According to Francois, the most popular cocktails of the night have been the Midnight Sun, an $18 rum drink featuring passionfruit and guava brown sugar, and of course the classic negroni. Usually a crowd this big starts getting pushy and aggressive, he says, with people jockeying for position in front of the bar. Not this one, though. “They’re polite!” Francois notes.
It’s a different take on Democratic Socialists than the one you’d likely hear watching cable news or scrolling through an older relative’s Facebook feed. There, the DSA’s run of recent primary wins is being framed as an existential threat not only to a Republican government currently making it harder to get a mail-in ballot than a measles infection, but also to the mainstream Democratic party.
In what almost all Americans seem to agree is a bleak and corrupt political landscape, attendees of tonight’s sold-out event—including several I speak with who aren’t DSA members at all—seem to feel like the party’s insurgent status and focus on affordability are enough to give them some hope, both politically and romantically.
“None of the major dating apps have a leftist option, you just have to go with “liberal” and hope for the best,” says Abby B., a chapter fundraising staffer who helped organize the event. “And I think that after the genocide in Gaza, and the way that Democrats have totally failed to meet the moment, there’s also a failure to meet the moment on dating apps.”
When asked how she’s feeling about the current state of politics, writer and gig worker Alice N. deadpans, “It’s great, it’s awesome, I love it, it’s so sick.” We both laugh, while “Pink Pony Club” plays in the background. “No,” she amends after a moment. “It’s bad, it’s really bad.”
“It’s nice to know that at least, broad strokes, there’s some values compatibility,” she says of the event. “I think everybody hates dating apps, I think a lot of us are really disillusioned with trying to discern attraction and compatibility from a video game. So this seems like a sweet, earnest, cute thing to do.”
I ask her if I can take a photo of her shirt, a homemade tank depicting Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie dressed as nuns, and she proudly agrees, telling me, “It’s one of my faves.”
I ask the same question to another attendee, wandering by in a sky blue button-down soaked through with sweat. They cordially decline to be photographed, so I head outside where attendees are congregating to escape the heat and light one another’s cigarettes.
“I’m a descendent of refugees and I do immigration work, so I work with detained people. I’m more interested in a place to connect with people who are of the belief that borders are arbitrary, and so I figured DSA might be that place,” says law student Sofia B., who recently moved back to New York from Washington D.C., where she says she “could not find a job, as a result of the administration.”
“I anticipated that people would talk more about theory and policy,” she adds, “but people are actually here to connect as human beings, which I’m excited about. It’s going well so far.”
Of course, there are some pretty out there ideas represented in the crowd, too. “I’m absolutely convinced that at some point the entirety of humanity lived underground,” says one attendee who asked to remain anonymous. “The Paris catacombs indicate that.”
NYC-DSA has thrown a dozen or so similar mixers over the last couple years. “I’ve been in DSA since 2020, and I’ve been to a few of these, and I enjoyed myself. I’m still single, still looking,” says Sam O., a 31-year-old working in tech. “A lot of political work is hanging out. We need to create spaces where people are able to socialize, where you’re in a room and you know people are politically aligned.” He offers his number, asking if I’m also there to participate in the event. Journalistically, I demur.
“I think DSA is the only hopeful outlet in politics right now,” says Lauren W., a DSA member who tells me she’s already offered to enroll several people she’s chatted with tonight. “And, yes, the dating world is also typically really hopeless. But everyone’s been so uniquely hopeful at this event. We’re about to have a ton of DSA weddings, and a ton of DSA babies.”
As the event winds down, I scan the thinning crowd for hints of wedding bells. Few people seem to be heading home together, and I struggle to find any pairs or groups who say they’ve made a definitive romantic connection. But most everyone I talk to seems to feel positive, saying they’ve had some promising conversations.
I ask one trio standing on the street how they feel things went, and a DSA member with artfully shaved eyebrows grins thoughtfully. “Numbers were exchanged,” they start to tell me, before being interrupted as Abby B. leads over another attendee.
“I have a comms volunteer for you!” she announces excitedly. The two take down one another’s information, before the possible volunteer departs.
“See,” the member says, turning back to me, “numbers exchanged!”