Meanwhile, I\u2019m holding onto a photo strip of a smiley stranger \u2014 he\u2019s flashing a peace sign in one frame, closing his eyes in the next<\/a>. He wears an England cap, which is a bizarre coincidence since that\u2019s where I\u2019m from.<\/p>\n We are linked because sometime in the past few days, each of us stepped inside the same nondescript Union Square photobooth designed to match up singles looking for a connection<\/a>.<\/p>\n One evening this week, I joined a line of twenty-somethings \u2014 all dressed in various Y2K-style outfits \u2014 waiting for a turn inside the matchmaking machine. The photobooth is situated on the corner of East 12th Street and University Place, right in the heart of the NYU campus; territory of the young and uber-trendy. The location is extremely purposeful. This is matchmaking for a photobooth-loving, chronically online generation. <\/p>\n Before entering the photobooth, we were instructed to scan a QR code and fill out a personality questionnaire about our age, sexual orientation, views on religion, how ambitious we are and whether we like to dance, scoring the answer on a scale of one to seven (one being the lowest you resonate with the statement). <\/p>\n A tap of your card and $10 later, the photobooth churns out two physical strips of photos: one of you, and another of the stranger you\u2019ve been paired with based on your answers. <\/p>\n But there is a catch. <\/p>\n Finding them in-person is improbable among New York City\u2019s 8.5 million residents \u2014 unless you have some impressive social media sleuthing skills and hunt them down. The flaws of this operation do make me wonder: isn\u2019t modern dating already hard enough that single people don\u2019t need to be frantically running around the city, holding a photostrip up to a stranger\u2019s face, screaming, \u201cIs this you?! Are you my match?\u201d Surely, we\u2019ve been through enough?<\/p>\n Outside the photobooth, I meet Julieana, a 22-year-old supermarket worker from the Bronx, who journeyed downtown after seeing videos about the matchmaking machine on TikTok. She had a positive experience: she thought her match was good-looking and said she\u2019ll attempt to track him down online.<\/p>\n \u201cIf I find him, I would message and be like, \u2018Hey, you\u2019re my match,\u2019\u201d she laughs. \u201cIt\u2019s a bit scary.\u201d<\/p>\n Julieana is a self-professed romantic, so she would choose this vaguely analogue-style meet-cute over Hinge any day. \u201cI\u2019m iffy about dating apps,\u201d she says. \u201cI’ll meet somebody, and then it doesn’t work out, and then I take a break from it. And then it’s a continuous cycle. I haven\u2019t had any luck with that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot everybody wants to be in love right now,\u201d she says. \u201cThey’re either not ready or they want other things.\u201d<\/p>\n It\u2019s no secret that dating apps are pretty hellish right now<\/a>. According to Forbes<\/a>, 80 percent of millennials report dating app burnout, while 79 percent of Gen Z experience it, too. The figure is slightly lower for Gen X (78 percent) and Baby Boomers (70 percent). Even when you do meet someone organically, ghosting \u2014 the act of suddenly vanishing from someone\u2019s life in a very emotionally avoidant manner with no prior warning \u2014 seems to plague the dating scene. You may get a first date, but whether you\u2019ll ever hear from them again is a roll of the dice. It is so hellish that Vogue <\/a>reported last month that women are even being ghosted by their long-term partners.<\/p>\n But I\u2019m not convinced that this \u201cMissed Connections\u201d photobooth will help solve the sorry state of dating, either. It quickly becomes clear to me that this might be a thinly veiled marketing stunt. The inconvenience of having only the first name of your match to go off has already led some participants to post about it on social media, imploring strangers online to help them track down their connection, in an \u201cinternet…do your thing\u201d style video. A handful of these posts already exist. I won\u2019t be surprised if this trend goes viral next week. <\/p>\n It\u2019s no surprise, then, that this booth is the brainchild of those who engineer some of the internet\u2019s most viral moments. It is a collaboration between the matchmaking service Matchbox and @meetcutesnyc, the Instagram account with 3.3 million followers, which posts its ubiquitous and sentimental street videos capturing how couples first met.<\/p>\n![\"Hopeful](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/photobooth2.jpg\")
Hopeful singles wait in line for the \u2018Missed Connections\u2019 photobooth on East 12th Street and University Place in Manhattan (Ellie Muir\/The Independent)<\/p>\n![\"\u2018The](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/xx.jpg\")
\u2018The Independent\u2019s\u2019 Ellie Muir was matched with a stranger at the \u2018Missed Connections\u2019 photobooth in New York City, but only knows his first name and will never actually meet him (Ellie Muir\/The Independent)<\/p>\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/IMG_5182-2.jpg\")
A tap of your card and $10 later, the photobooth churns out two physical strips of photos: one of you, and another of the stranger you\u2019ve been paired with based on your answers (Ellie Muir\/The Independent)<\/p>\n
![\"Cassidy](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/photbooth1.jpg\")
Cassidy (right) pictured with a friend after receiving their matches at the \u2018Missed Connections\u2019 photobooth (Ellie Muir\/The Independent)<\/p>\n