After a day or so on the waiting list as number 124,431, I'm bumped to the front of the line and "accepted!" Holy shit! Victory! I AM good enough! Not sure what's happened with the rest of the 124,430 others who were in front of me, I permit myself to indulge in memories of my bouncer-schmoozing glory days.
The League has (a shitload of) rules
I set my parameters, from which I can select for sex, distance, age, height, ethnicity, religion, and education. I’m definitely heightist but the rest doesn’t really matter to me.
I then get an emoticon-littered message from my "concierge" with the “rules”, which include (but are not limited) to the following, which I've paraphrased:
You'll get a (ridiculously small) batch of people per day sent to you at Happy Hour (5pm). If both people "heart" the other, you'll have a match; but people aren't necessarily revealed to each other on the same day so don't expect anything immediate. Matches should be exciting! And special (star emoticon)! And these will be infrequent. The flakier you are (not responding, not logging in), the fewer matches you'll get.