On Monday night, a 27-year-old woman in an evening gown brought out a llama on live TV in hopes of finding her husband.

This isn’t a futuristic version of The Hunger Games, but one of the most popular reality dating shows of all time — The Bachelor.

She’s working to impress the newest bachelor, Grant Ellis, who made it clear that his commitment is to commitment itself. Standing in front of a room of 25 women, eager for a diamond ring and a lifelong partner, Ellis pledged to offer marriage and true love to one lucky woman out of the group.

[FKA Twigs pairs glitchy beats, bold confidence in ‘EUSEXUA’]

Reality dating shows are notoriously sappy and staged, filled with crocodile tears and fake cat fights. But look past the sparkly dresses and cheesy one-liners, and the hope of true love in each of the contestants’ eyes shines through — especially if they’re there for the right reasons.

While watching these first dates between Ellis and his many “girlfriends,” I’m baffled at how the dating rituals aired differ from younger audiences’ experiences.  

For older Gen Z, first dates seemed to happen regularly, as a way to fill weekend nights and meet new people. Butterflies were normal, but they were nothing to sweat over. Now, we’ve axed the first date and buried it deep underground. 

We’ve completely lost the spontaneity of meeting someone new. How did we single-handedly manage to create such a huge stigma around the first date? 

The modern dating world is filled with hours dedicated to carefully curating dating profiles, juggling multiple apps, dodging one-night stands and agonizing over Snapchat replies. Despite the over-produced, manufactured vibe of The Bachelor, it might be this era’s most natural way to meet someone.

Gen Z’s universal social anxiety destroyed the concept of a “meet cute.” When venturing out into a bookstore or coffee shop, it’s impossible to bump into anyone without headphones on and a phone in hand 24/7. 

Our pulses pound at the thought of having to make a phone call, and we prefer mobile ordering in restaurants to talking to a waiter. Dating apps and messaging platforms are the perfect places to hide, allowing us to avoid the inevitable awkwardness of meeting someone in person. Online “relationships” feel the safest — an arena where you can curate a witty text or endlessly retake a photo to find the best shot.

[Terp Lions dance club roars with creativity, technical prowess]

There’s an old-school romance to The Bachelor that’s kept viewers swooning for more than 20 years. The season premiere ended with Ellis in a suit, handsomely handing out red roses to the women who had caught his eye. 

I couldn’t help but blush when the camera cut to Ellis or squeal when he propositioned a rose to one of my favorites in a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Monday nights are now the world’s fix for romance.  

The Bachelor is a breath of fresh air in a world where AI imitates human emotions and DoorDash delivers everything from strawberries to toilet paper. For a few weeks, the eligible man and his numerous suitors prioritize face-to-face relationships in a way that newer generations should take notes on.