A $150 tab for two entrees, two drinks, an appetizer, and tip is apparently enough to make an entire generation swear off romance. According to multiple recent reports cited by The Guardian, young Americans are simply opting out of dating because the price of admission has gotten absurd. And before you say "just go somewhere cheaper," please know that Chili's has also gotten expensive.
The $150 Date That's Killing Romance
The New York Times has been running pieces about the death of dating due to cost, and The Guardian's Dave Schilling decided to weigh in with a column that manages to be both genuinely funny and quietly devastating about the state of modern romance in an economy that has turned even a casual dinner into a financial commitment requiring pre-approval.
Schilling's framing is the right one: dating is gambling. You spend real money, there are no guaranteed returns, and the house always wins. The difference is that at a casino, the free drinks are part of the deal. On a first date in 2026, you're splitting a $22 cocktail with someone who may or may not text you back.
When One Person Has Money and the Other Definitely Does Not
Schilling gets at the actually painful part of all this, which isn't two broke people going on cheap dates together. Two broke people can go to a free museum. Two broke people can split a pizza. That's fine. That's cute, even.
The ugly situation, as he describes from personal experience, is the income gap date. The scenario where one person is doing okay and the other is a self-described "broke writer" watching their savings crater while their partner graciously insists it's fine that she's picking up every check. It is not fine. Everyone in that scenario knows it is not fine. The reassurance only makes it worse.
Schilling cop to being the freeloader in that arrangement, which is a level of self-awareness most people would rather die than publish under their own name. Respect, genuinely.
The Loneliness Influencer Industrial Complex
Here's where it gets darker. Schilling mentions that he previously wrote a column urging young people not to give up on love, specifically warning them away from "loneliness influencers" who sell isolation as a personality. He now sounds slightly less sure of that advice, which tells you something about how bad things have gotten.
There is a genuinely growing content economy built around convincing young people that being alone is actually a conscious, empowered lifestyle choice rather than a structural outcome of an economy that has made basic social participation unaffordable. When a $150 dinner is the cultural expectation for a first date, and your rent just went up again, opting out stops looking like a personal failure and starts looking like rational behavior. The influencers didn't create the conditions. They just monetized them.
The Cheap Date Manifesto Nobody Asked For
To his credit, Schilling does not wallow. He makes the obvious point that plenty of zero-cost or low-cost date options exist: free museums, parks, beaches, art galleries. His more surreal suggestions include riding an elevator up and down in a large building to see if sparks fly, or standing outside a restaurant for thirty minutes without ever going in.
These are absurd examples, but his underlying point is solid. A date is just a structured opportunity to figure out if you like someone. The venue is largely a pretense. Two people stuck in traffic on the Los Angeles freeway together can learn more about each other's character in forty-five minutes than they would over a hundred-dollar meal where everyone is performing.
The problem is that the cultural script around dating still treats expensive dinners as the baseline signal of serious intent. Suggesting a walk in the park on a first date reads, to many people, as low-effort. Which is insane, but here we are.
Should You Just Wait Until You Can Afford It?
Some corners of the internet insist that you simply should not date if you are unemployed or financially unstable. Lock yourself away, sort your life out, then rejoin society once your savings account looks presentable. Schilling notes the logic of this without fully endorsing it.
The problem, as he points out, is that there is never a good time. Nobody ever fully has it figured out. If you wait for financial stability before pursuing connection, you may be waiting for a signal that the current economy has no intention of sending anytime soon. For a generation dealing with student debt, housing costs that have eaten half their income, and a job market that keeps inventing new ways to be precarious, "get stable first" is not advice. It's a door that isn't there.
The Dingo Take
You are supposed to believe that the solution to generational loneliness is a mindset shift. Go on the cheap date. Be honest about your finances. Don't let the trend pieces win. That's Schilling's conclusion, and it's not wrong exactly, but it lets a lot of structural culprits off the hook pretty easily.
The reason young people are doing the math on whether they can afford to date is not a failure of romantic imagination. It's because wages have not kept pace with the cost of existing in a city, the gig economy has made income wildly unpredictable, and somewhere along the way a culture that used to romanticize the starving artist in love started quietly stigmatizing anyone who couldn't cover a $75 tab without wincing. The loneliness epidemic and the affordability crisis are not separate stories. They are the same story.
Schilling's column is warm and self-deprecating and worth reading. But the actual headline here is that an entire generation is running a cost-benefit analysis on human connection, deciding the numbers don't work out, and then getting lectured about it by think pieces. The cheap date advice is fine. The economy that made it necessary is not.


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