I’m Kayla. I test stuff for a living, and yes, I test dating stuff, too. Last month I went to three speed dating nights in Portland. I wore my rain jacket, grabbed a pen, and took notes like a nerd. If you're curious about the blow-by-blow, I turned my scribbles into a dedicated recap right here. You know what? It was way less awkward than I feared, and way louder than I wanted.
How it works (at least the nights I tried)
Check-in was simple. I gave my name, got a sticker, and a number. The host explained the rules. Five-minute chats. A bell rings. Switch. Then you mark “yes,” “no,” or “maybe” on a card or app. Matches show up the next day. If you’re wondering how to take the conversation from small talk to something a little more flirty, check out this comprehensive sexting guide—it breaks down timing, consent cues, and tone so you can spice things up confidently when both of you are ready.
That’s the gist. It feels like speed rounds at trivia, but with feelings. If you want a deeper dive into how to prep and what to expect, this expert speed-dating guide lays it all out.
Night 1: A wine bar in the Pearl
This one was in the Pearl, at a cozy wine spot with low lights and too many tiny tables. The group was 28 to 39. I had seven mini-dates in a row. Fast, like a relay race, but with cheese plates.
Stand-out chats:
- A middle school teacher from Beaverton who collects pins and hikes Powell Butte on Sundays.
- A UX designer who bikes everywhere, even in the rain. He laughs with his whole face.
- A brewer who smelled like hops (not bad) and knows every food cart on Division.
I said “yes” to three. Next day, I had two matches. One became a coffee at Coava. No sparks, but we traded bakery recs and now I’m hooked on kouign-amann. So… kind of a win.
Night 2: McMenamins Kennedy School chaos (fun chaos)
I love the vibe there—old school hallways, warm lamps, the whole deal. But it was loud. Like, “wait, what was your dog’s name?” loud. The host was sharp and kind, though, and kept us moving when two people no-showed. That messed up the gender balance a bit.
I thought five minutes would be too short. Then I kinda loved it. It saved me from one dull chat about crypto. But I also wished for more time with a software guy from Hillsboro who loves Forest Park night walks and cooks a mean shakshuka. We matched. We met at Powell’s later that week. We wandered the Blue Room, then split fries at Sizzle Pie. Sweet night. No, not love. Yes, I’d see him again.
Night 3: Queer-friendly night on Mississippi
This one felt soft and safe. Mixed ages, easy eye contact, better chairs. The host set a calm pace. We had a little break for water and chips. My best talk was with a ceramic artist from Sellwood. Clay on their hands all week, roots in their voice. We didn’t match, but I left with a pottery class rec and a grin.
What I liked
- It’s efficient. You meet 8 to 12 people in under two hours. No endless texting. No ghost parade.
- The vibe was very Portland. Flannels, bikes, banter about coffee, and dog photos on cue.
- Hosts mattered. A good host kept things fair and safe. I saw them check IDs and handle one pushy guy fast.
- The venues felt central and walkable. Pearl, Mississippi, and that old school charm at Kennedy. Easy rideshare if it rains, which it did. Beach-city events keep it outdoors—see how it plays out at a sunny San Diego speed-dating night.
What bugged me
- Noise. Bars get loud. I lost my voice a bit after Night 2, and my friend’s ears rang after a neon-soaked speed-dating night in Las Vegas.
- No-shows. One event had two. We had to sit a round, which broke the flow.
- Short time. Five minutes is quick. It’s great for chemistry. Not great for slow talkers.
- Cost. Mine ran $35 to $45, plus a drink. Not wild, but it adds up.
- Credits, not refunds. One host gave event credit when a match list got delayed. Fair, but still.
Real talk: Did it work?
Kind of. I didn’t meet my person. I did meet kind, smart folks who show up on time and try. That alone felt rare and nice. I got three matches across all nights. Two dates. One tiny crush that faded. I also learned my starter questions work: “What snack are you at 10 p.m.?” and “What’s your cozy place when it rains?”
Tips from a tired extrovert
- Get there 10 minutes early. Then you’re not shouting your name over the first bell.
- Bring two fun questions. Keep them light. Save the heavy stuff for date two.
- Wear layers. Portland AC is dramatic. So is March wind.
- Set a cap. I choose three “yes” picks max. It keeps me honest and present.
- Drink water. Your voice will thank you.
- Walk home if you can. A short walk helps you sort your feelings without your phone yelling at you—it’s the only thing that cooled me down after a tech-heavy speed-dating night in Seattle earlier this year.
Still wrapping your head around the whole concept? Here’s a straightforward explainer on speed dating that covers the basics, from sign-up to follow-up.
Who should try this
- New in town and not into apps.
- Busy folks who want real faces, not profiles.
- Shy extroverts (hi, me). You get structure, but you still get play.
Not sure where to find the next event? Check out DateHotter for a curated lineup of speed-dating nights and other low-pressure meetups around town. Or, if your zip code is closer to Lake Michigan than the Willamette, take a spin through this resource for adult search in Muskegon—it keeps a live list of singles-friendly gatherings and filterable profiles so you can see who’s free tonight without wading through endless swipe apps.
Little things I noticed
People lit up when I asked about their “small joy” of the week. A bus driver said, “My regulars learned my Friday joke.” We laughed for the full five minutes. Another person brought a tiny notebook of restaurant picks. We compared banh mi spots like we were on a game show. Small joys carry these nights.
Final take
Speed dating in Portland felt human. Messy, quick, warm, and sometimes too loud. I’d do it again every few months, not every week. It’s not magic. It is movement. If you’re stuck, it gets you unstuck. If you’re lonely, it gives you a room full of maybes, which beats a screen full of nothing.
Would I recommend it? Yep. Go on a weekday, breathe, and let the bell work for you. If all you get is one real laugh and a new bakery rec, that’s still something. I’ll take it.