A speed dating event for queer singles in NYC sells out in days. So I tried it.

Welcome to ‘I Tried It!’ an ongoing series in which our reporters try novel or trendy experiences in New York — so you can decide if you want to.

For the past several months, tickets to a speed dating event aimed at queer women, nonbinary people and transmasc folks have been selling out in days.

The premise of each event, called “We Met IRL Queer,” is simple: 20 people show up at a bar, and go on “dates” that last about four minutes.

The creator of “We Met IRL,” Maxine Williams, 27, started a heterosexual dating series of the same name in February 2022 and began offering an LGBTQ+ version last June, to coincide with Pride Month. It’s been a hit ever since, and has sold out every time.

“We were imposed with isolation during the pandemic for so long that we crave personal connection,” said Williams.

“Pre-pandemic, we used to see so many articles like ‘Gen-Z is so on their phones,” said Williams. “They love social media and dating apps!’ And I just don’t think that’s the case.”

Having broken up with my ex-girlfriend more than a year ago, and with the cold, lonely months of cuffing season just around the corner, I figured I was open to meeting the love of my life — or, at the very least, diving into the dating pool.

Imagine all of the anxiety before a first date with a stranger. Now multiply it by 20.

The queer speed dating events happen every month at The Bush, a self-described “dyke bar for the Queers” in Bushwick that opened earlier this year.

At a good friend’s apartment before the event, I frantically examined my outfit from every angle in the bathroom mirror as we rehearsed potential conversation topics. I chugged a Red Bull and reapplied blush for the umpteenth time.

My best friend – who is straight – reminded me that I literally make small talk with strangers for a living. Somehow, I did not feel better. Asking questions and getting to the bottom of a story can be thrilling — small-talking with strangers is just awkward and scary.

Later my stomach lurched as I walked past Maria Hernandez Park and closer to the venue. A few minutes later, I found myself standing in line outside The Bush, where organizers gave me a name tag I stuck on my shirt. It was too late to turn back.

It wasn’t as terrifying or as awkward as I worried it would be.

As I sipped on my non-alcoholic beer from Athletic Brewing Company, I scanned the room for familiar faces, realizing I’d be mortified to run into someone I already knew. Or worse – have to go out with them.

But every face belonged to a well-dressed and occasionally heavily tattooed stranger. I breathed a sigh of relief.

After a brief icebreaker activity, we were instructed to find a table, based on the assigned number on our name tags.

In what felt like a surreal version of musical chairs, I located the nearest available chair and sat face-to-face with my first date. The timer began.

The next hour-and-a-half felt like a chaotic blur of chatter and the incessant buzzer.

The “dates” themselves felt less like dates and more like short introductions, where I could exchange a few friendly words with the person in front of me.

We talked about what drinks we’d ordered. I complimented people on their outfits. Occasionally, there was a millisecond of silence, but awkward moments quickly dissipated once the timer went off again.

And somewhere around the fifth or sixth date, my shoulders dropped and my mouth unclenched – I realized I was having fun.

As I finished my last conversation, the organizers announced that the event was over, but people were more than welcome to remain in the bar and continue to revisit any conversations with “dates” we were interested in.

I was exhausted and opted to head home.

After exchanging my info with a few dates, I left the bar. I spent the rest of the evening recounting the evening with my best friend as I gnawed on a Magnum ice cream bar.

I fell in love – with the idea of being in love again.

I did not find true love at the event. I did, however, find a pretty sweet consolation prize: people who asked for my number. It was an ego boost and also a realization that dating doesn’t have to be as scary as it seems.

“We Met IRL” forced me to face my fears around small-talking with potential romantic interests, and made the actual prospect of meeting a stranger less nerve-wracking.

While I didn’t want to launch into a relationship with, say, the person who talked extensively about their favorite music venues in the city, I did enjoy talking to someone new and hearing what they like about New York.

I found myself mentally preparing to return again in a few months. Who knows? I might get lucky next time.

What to know if you want to go.

“We Met IRL” events are known for selling out rapidly, sometimes even in seconds.

If you’re interested in going, it makes sense to plan ahead for the application to drop.

Here’s the process: Anyone interested in attending the queer speed dating event needs to fill out a form found in the bio of We Met IRL Queer’s Instagram account.

The questionnaire asks would-be attendees what they’re looking for: a relationship? Casual dating? Meeting new people? It also asks for an email address and a social media account the organizers can use to verify your identity.

We Met IRL Queer then uses its social media to advertise a specific time and day that the tickets will “drop” – typically a week or two before the monthly event. Then you have to wait for the email to land in your inbox.

Admission is $25 plus tax and a one-drink minimum.

The next We Met IRL Queer Speed Dating event will take place at the Bush on Tuesday, Oct. 24 at 7 p.m. Tickets will go on sale on Friday, Oct. 6. More information can be found here.