Will you people give Nicole Brydson of the Observer a break? The lil' lady went to Williamsburg's popular Union Pool in a "frilly dress" on a Saturday night... alone. (Brave!) What did she find? Gen Yers can't go to bars alone anymore. Nobody will talk to you.

She simply wanted to see if she could meet people, so she "made [herself] available, quietly sipping a pint of Blue Moon."

After an hour of enjoying the warm weather, and having not made any new acquaintances, I made my way to sit at the bar. Again, no luck... Rarely are Brooklyn's local watering holes a place to meet new people these days.

While advising me about my love life, my mother always likes to tell stories about her youthful evenings spent at her local singles bar. The rules of engagement are much different now. It's been a long time since there were social mores about which gender approaches the other, pays for dates or makes the first move on a first date. A cursory glance at Craigslist's missed connections section proves that many 25- to 35-year-olds, especially recent transplants, don't necessarily have the stones to introduce themselves in person.

Then there's the fact that they're also total fucking assholes:

Jason offered up a story about how he had been chatting with a female patron who awaited her date's arrival. He was late. They had never met before. Jason ran downstairs as the gentleman walked in, and upon his return to the bar, the date was gone. The woman had sent him away. He wasn't her type.

Brydson might consider midtown bars. I once met a lovely gentleman who claimed to be a "fuckin' billionaire."

[Painting by Berc Ketchian]
Bowling Alone in Williamsburg [The Observer]