I’m Kayla. I’m queer, a little shy at first, and I love a clean spreadsheet and a messy burrito. I went to Little Gay Book speed dating because my dating apps felt like a slow scroll to nowhere. My friend said, “Go. Worst case, you get a good story.” She was right. I got two.
And I’ll be real. I don’t like speed. I like eye contact. I like jokes that land slow. But I also like meeting people who get it. So I tried it. And you know what? It was fun. It was loud. It was weird. It worked.
Wait, what is Little Gay Book?
It’s a queer speed dating event, run by Dr. Frankie and her team. It’s for women, trans folks, and non-binary folks who date within that world. No cis men. Think 3–5 minute dates, a bell, and a scorecard. You meet a lot of people, fast. Then you pick who you want to match with. If they pick you too, you both get an email.
Little Gay Book is a matchmaking service that offers speed dating events for lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer individuals. These events are designed to facilitate real-time connections through structured, quick conversations, both in-person and online.
Some nights are in bars. Some are on Zoom. I’ve done both. They felt different, but both felt safe and kind.
How the night ran for me
I went to one in Oakland on a rainy Thursday. I wore boots, a green sweater, and hope. Check-in was smooth. They gave me a name tag with pronouns, and a tiny sticker that said what I was looking for. The host said the rules: be kind, be clear, no touching without consent, hydrate. Easy.
We sat at small tables. A bell rang. A sea of small smiles. Then boom—first date.
- 3 minutes talking
- 1 minute to mark your card
- Switch tables
- Repeat
We got two breaks. Water pitchers kept showing up like magic. The room was warm but not too loud. I could hear people laugh. The staff checked in and kept time like pros.
Real moments that stuck with me
First date: Jess. A teacher from Oakland with a koi tattoo and a calm voice. We talked about rain and buses and which kid book still makes us cry. She said “The Velveteen Rabbit.” I said “Same.” She laughed and snorted. I liked that.
Third date: Ren. A product manager who builds roadmaps and grows mint on their porch. Their icebreaker? “What snack do you trust with your life?” I said kettle chips. They said dumplings. We both nodded like sages. Is that love? Maybe not. But it was a very good three minutes.
Fifth date: A little awkward. She pitched crypto. I asked about her dog. We talked over each other. The bell saved us. That’s speed dating. Not every table is a win. No shade. We were just on different channels.
Seventh date: Haley. A librarian. Glasses. Dry jokes. We traded spooky book recs and got excited about zines. We planned a taco night if we matched. I wrote a big star by her name.
If swapping book recs over tacos sounds good but you’d rather linger on one novel at a time, consider checking out this honest take on a gay book club in NYC—it gave me fresh ideas for future meet-cutes.
Zoom version, last winter: I wore a sweater and used my cat mug as a shield. Side note: if cheeky French wordplay makes you grin, you might enjoy je montre mon minou—a candid, body-positive read on playful exhibitionism that could spice up your next flirty chat. The host moved us into breakout rooms. It felt like tiny portals opening and closing—bing, next, bing, next. Less noise. More faces. One person had fairy lights and great curtains. I still remember the curtains.
The vibe and the crowd
Range of ages. Range of styles. Queer hair. Soft sweaters. Sharp boots. A lot of kind eyes. Pronouns were on every tag, and folks used them with care. Staff gave a quick talk on respect and safety. Bathrooms were all-gender. The host was funny, which helped. The room had a low hum that felt like nervous hope.
I saw first-date jitters and also a lot of “Oh, you too?” moments. That’s rare. It mattered.
What I loved
- Fast, clear setup. Check-in, tags, rules, done.
- The bell. It kept things moving. No one got stuck.
- Thoughtful prompts on the tables. Easy openers like “What’s your comfort show?” or “What did you cook last week?”
- Staff kept it safe. Consent got named out loud.
- Mix of people. Styles, jobs, ages. Not a copy-paste crowd.
- The match email came the next day. Clean and simple.
What bugged me a bit
- The bar line got long. I missed one sip break. Water saved me.
- Some chairs wobbled. Not a big deal, but I noticed.
- A few chats needed one more minute. The bell cut a punchline twice. Pain.
- Tickets go fast. Early bird sold out before I blinked.
For those interested in attending, Little Gay Book provides a schedule of upcoming speed dating events across various cities, including details on how to participate and what to expect. littlegaybook.com
- Price is not tiny. Not massive, but it’s not a $5 night either.
Real matches, real outcomes
I picked five people. Two picked me back.
- Haley (the librarian): We met for tacos on Sunday. We traded a book each—she gave me a short, spooky one; I gave her a funny essay book. We stayed till the salsa ran out. We’ve texted every week since. Slow and steady.
- Ren (dumplings): We didn’t date. We became hiking buddies. We send trail pics and shoe tips. I needed that too.
From the Zoom event, I got one match. We tried a video tea date. Cute, sweet, then life got busy. It fizzled. Still worth it.
Between marking your scorecard and waiting for the match email, you could dive into Gay Book Reviews for queer romance recs that remind you why we all keep showing up for love. Or, for a dose of travel-flavored queer lit fun, check out the recap of the ‘So Gay For You’ book tour—it’ll make you want to book a ticket and a date.
Tips I wish I had before I went
- Get there a bit early. You’ll breathe easier.
- Bring one fun opener and one deeper one. Mine were “What song saved your week?” and “What does home feel like for you?”
- Keep your drink light. Water is your friend.
- Jot one word after each date. Hair. Dumplings. Laugh. It helps you remember.
- Wear layers. Rooms heat up. Or don’t. Your call. But I was glad I did.
- After the match email, send a message that same day. Simple works: “Hey, it’s Kayla from table 7—taco raincheck?”
Need a different kind of reset before jumping back into the dating pool? If you’d rather unwind with a soothing massage than another round of small-talk, exploring the discreet spa scene in Midwestern towns can be an unexpected treat; this guide to Rubmaps Olathe lists verified reviews and insider tips on finding a clean, respectful massage spot, so you can calm your nerves before (or after) your next queer mingle.
Who should go (and who may not love it)
- Good for you if you’re new to town, tired of apps, or you like meeting people face to face.
- Good if you want queer space that feels held and real.
- Hard if small talk drains you fast or loud rooms spike your stress. The Zoom nights might fit better in that case.
My tiny gripe that I then took back
I thought three minutes was too short. I wanted five or six. Then I hit my ninth date, and my brain said, “Girl, three is perfect.” I changed my mind. Short keeps it bright. It keeps the “yes” feeling alive.
The follow-up process
You scan a QR at the end or use the link they send. Mark yes, no, or friend. If it’s a yes-yes, you get email info. No games. No guessing. I liked the friend option. We need more queer friends too.
Final take
I walked in nervous. I walked out grinning. Little Gay Book speed dating is well run, kind, and not boring. I met real people who showed up as themselves. I felt seen. And seen is rare.
Would I go again? I already did. I’d go a third time. I might even bring snacks. Kettle chips, obviously. Dumplings if I plan ahead.
Score: 4.5 out of 5. Loses half a point for the wobble chair