It was your typical Upper West Side Jewish singles scene. Hundreds of sharply-dressed young people doing the Jewish mating dance. Fake half-greetings. Looking each other up and down. Constantly scanning the horizon for more prospects.

It could have been any Friday night at the Orthodox synagogue Ohab Zedek—but, it was not the Upper West Side of Manhattan. It was Miami Beach, Fla.

For years now, singles have flocked to the Eden Roc hotel on the last nights of Passover to check out other singles. Like finding a needle in a haystack, the search for finding their Soul-Mate begins. It requires aggressive detective work.

During the day, young people strut their stuff up and down the boardwalk and along the beach. The scene is oddly reminiscent of the West Side’s annual Simchat Torah celebration. But in this case, the boardwalk substitutes for West End Avenue, where young people schmooze and flirt heavily.

The clothing worn ranges from black suits for the men and modest clothing for the women (very uncomfortable in the Miami heat) to tank tops, bathing suits, and G-strings.

The range in clothing represents the range of Jews visiting Miami Beach for Passover: From the black hats and the Modern Orthodox to the nonobservant and the Flexidox—those who don’t fall neatly into any category.

With the boundless opportunities in a packed Jewish singles scene, clothing becomes more than just fashion. People flock to those who are like-dressed in the assumption that they are like-minded and that they know other people who are like-minded.

With so many Passover family programs in Miami Beach, however, I have felt that the families have been gradually intruding on my “beloved meatmarket.” While the Eden Rock used to be the scene of mostly single Jews in their 20s and 30s, this year, it was difficult to sift through the crowd of youngsters to find one’s potential Soul Mate.

Following standard singles protocol, I scanned the hotel lobby for people I knew and people I might want to be introduced to—and even better, people I knew who happened to be talking to people I wanted to be introduced to.

As I walked through the lobby, filled with lounge chairs and people roaming about, I noticed a lively crowd of people on the hotel pool deck. And low and behold, to my shock and horror, I found that my sinful meat market had been invaded by adolescents.

Although I found some people my age that I recognized, I was surprised to see dozens of youngsters who appeared to be around 13 years of age. These young girls in tight outfits and make-up and boys in formal-wear who had not yet had their growth spurt were singles in training. Strangely, I felt like an outsider invading their scene. I escaped from that crowd as fast as I could, finding shelter among those my age. The holiday ended on a Thursday night, and fortunately, there were no 13-year-olds in sight, as most of the singles flocked to South Beach for a night on the town. I went to an outdoor bar called Clevelander’s, which was a blast.

It was interesting to see the same range of people on the dance floor as I had seen during the holiday. Some women wore tank tops and jeans, while others wore shirts with long sleeves, skirts to the knee and a head covering (if they were married).

While it is so easy to label people by their clothing, especially in a singles scene, this get-together really showed that perhaps it is better not to judge people so fast. Maybe if we all suspended our judgments for a little while, we’d notice more possibilities—or potential mates—that are open to us.

Everybody except the Dorks, that is. Yuck!