I love comics. I love people who love comics. So I tried something a little wild: I dated at cons. Not once. A few times. New York Comic Con in the fall. San Diego Comic-Con in the summer. Different coasts, same wild energy.
Was it perfect? Nope. Was it fun? Yes. And sometimes it was sweaty and sweet at the same time.
I even kept a running diary of the best tricks I picked up, which you can read in this full Comic Con dating play-by-play.
Let me explain.
Before diving in, I also skimmed a surprisingly thorough field manual from Doctor NerdLove about finding love at conventions, and a few of those tips definitely framed how I approached the floor.
The line is the lounge (no, really)
At San Diego, I met Sam in the Hall H line at 6 a.m. We were both half-asleep and clutching cold brew. He had a Loki pin on his backpack. I said, “Nice pin.” He said, “Thanks, want some sunscreen?” Boom. That’s how it starts.
We talked about our panel plan (that’s con talk for “schedule”). We traded snacks. By noon, we were in the room cheering the same trailer. After the panel, we grabbed tacos in the Gaslamp. Simple. No pressure. If it got weird, we could bail back to the floor.
- Tip I learned: bring gum, share snacks, but ask first. People in line are bored and friendly, but still people.
Speed dating that didn’t feel corny (I was shocked)
At New York Comic Con, I booked a seat at Sci-Fi Speed Dating. I thought it would feel cheesy. It did. At first. Then it didn’t. Turns out this exact event even snagged a write-up in The Daily Beast, so clearly the curiosity is widespread.
It was fast, loud, and honest. You sit. You talk for five minutes. You both circle yes or no. The host keeps it moving like a stage manager. I met a teacher in a Moon Knight suit who collects zines. We didn’t match that night, but we met up two days later in Artist Alley to flip through indie books. We laughed a lot. We swapped art recs. It felt natural.
Bad part? The room was hot, and the chairs were close. I could smell foam glue, sweat, and hairspray. Glamorous? Not really. Real? Very.
Cosplay helps—and sometimes hurts
Cosplay is a chat starter. It’s also armor. When I wore Spider-Gwen at SDCC, I got a lot of “Hey, can I get a pic?” Which is fine—ask first, please. It made it easy to spark talk. “You made those web lines?” “Yep. Fabric paint. Dry time was brutal.”
But my mask muffled my voice. And the suit was, well, tight. Long talks felt hard. I learned to plan meetups when I wasn’t in full gear. A coffee in sneakers beats a shouty chat through a mask.
Small rule I follow: compliments are great; hands are not. Ask. Always.
Apps at cons: great for quick plans, not deep stuff
I tried Bumble and Tinder with my location set near the con center. For niche laughs, I also tested out gamer-specific platforms—my recap of that experiment lives here.
While I was already experimenting, I figured I’d see how a more flirt-forward option felt and opened an account on SextLocal—sextlocal.com—a quick-hit messaging site that lets you trade spicy texts with nearby users without swapping your personal phone number, perfect for keeping the vibe alive between panels.
Short bio. One clear photo. One cosplay photo. I added “at NYCC—coffee between panels?” That line worked.
For anyone who’s road-tripping down the East Coast—maybe hitting Animazement in Raleigh or GalaxyCon in Durham—and wants to line up a low-key meetup before badges even get picked up, you can browse the Adult Search Chapel Hill directory at Adult Search Chapel Hill. The listings make it simple to see who’s free, filter by interests, and lock in a casual drink or cosplay photo-walk without the marathon swipe session.
Real example: I matched with Jess at SDCC after she liked my low-effort “closet” Ken photo (yes, the pink shirt). We met by the Funko balloon outside the Marriott. We walked the bay, split a pretzel, and watched cosplayers pose on the steps. Then we both ran to different photo ops. That’s con life.
What didn’t work: late-night “you up?” pings after midnight. I was dead tired from panels, lines, and crowd flow. If we didn’t plan by 6 p.m., it didn’t happen.
Tiny app checklist that helped me:
- Set a small radius (half a mile).
- Mention your badge hours (saves time).
- Suggest a clear meet spot (Javits Starbucks, Hall B pillar, cosplay meetup sign).
Before I even stepped onto the con floor, I skimmed the free profile-polishing guides at DateHotter, and they genuinely helped my pics and prompts stand out in the swarm.
Mixers, bars, and the weird magic at 9 p.m.
San Diego has the Gaslamp. You can’t miss it. After the Masquerade, I went to a mellow rooftop where half the room wore capes. A guy dressed as Din Djarin asked if my boots hurt. They did. We swapped shoe inserts like trading cards. We danced till the DJ hit an anime theme and the whole floor sang. Did we date after? No. But we shared fries and kept it kind.
In New York, I’ve met people in the line for the Javits coat check. Rainy, messy hair, everyone laughing. One time, a group of us from a panel on indie horror walked to a diner at 10 p.m. A quiet artist sat across from me, drew a tiny vampire in my notebook, and asked if I liked black-and-white films. We grabbed coffee two weeks later in Brooklyn. Low stakes. Nice pace.
Artist Alley: yes, this is where the heart is
If you want real talk, go here. The tables feel personal. You see what someone loves. I met Lina while we both reached for the last copy of a small press anthology. We did the awkward hand dance. We bought it and traded stickers. We sat on the floor by a column and read a page. Then we hit a panel on “ink wash” together. We still text about brush pens.
Not every meet turns into a date. Some turn into fandom friends. That counts.
What sucked (because it’s not all cute)
- The crowds are loud. I lost my voice more than once.
- People flake. Schedules shift. Panels change rooms. It’s chaos by lunch.
- Cosplay sweat is real. Bring deodorant, face wipes, and water. Please.
- Post-con blues hit hard. You can feel sad on Monday. That’s normal.
Still, even the hectic con scene felt tame compared to when I dove into an all-out extreme dating site—the wild story is over here.
What worked for me (simple and honest)
- Start in lines or small meetups. Low pressure.
- Keep plans short: coffee, one panel, a lap through Artist Alley.
- Use “I’ve got 30 minutes before my panel” as a gentle out. It’s true.
- Ask for socials over numbers. DMs feel safer at first.
- Follow consent—photos, touch, everything. This is basic con law.
Who should try it?
If you love fandom talk, enjoy meet-cute chaos, and don’t mind lines, try it. If crowds drain you fast, plan one-on-one coffee outside the hall—same vibe, less noise. No shame in that. I do both.
My take, after a few cons
Comic con dating didn’t give me a movie montage. It gave me small wins. A hallway laugh. A quick match and a shared pretzel. A speed date that turned into an art chat. One real relationship? Kind of. Sam from Hall H and I did three chill dates after SDCC. We saw a matinee, roasted the trailer cuts, and made pancakes. It was sweet and slow. We’re not racing anywhere.
You know what? That fits. Cons are busy. Hearts like steady. If you try it, pack snacks, set clear plans, and stay kind. The right people show up—often while you’re both stuck in the same line, squinting at the same badge map, and smiling anyway.