Last week, news of Netflix’s attempt to acquire Warner Bros., followed by Paramount’s swift move to outbid them, filled me with dread. Not only because any consolidation might limit the variety of film projects that hit the market, but also because these mergers could threaten one of my preferred romantic outings: a trip to the movies.

Anyone familiar with Netflix (so everyone) knows that it relies on the binge-in-the-privacy-of-your-own-home model. Most of their films never hit the big screen, and if they do, it’s with an extremely limited theatrical run. Paramount announced that if they win this bidding war, they’d recognize “healthy traditional [theatrical] windows,” (no telling what they decide “healthy” means). But this merger comes at a time when theater ticket sales are dramatically dwindling. There are growing concerns that the theater experience as we know it could die. It’s stressful to say the least. And as an advocate for movie dates, I hate what this may mean for the future of that tradition.

In my eyes, a movie theater outing will forever outrank dinner, drinks, or a coffee meet-up—and I’ve been a staunch supporter of them since before I was old enough to get into R-rated films. In case you need a reminder, everything that made theater dates so lovely in high school (when you didn’t have the funds or the 21+ ID to go out anywhere else) still holds. And it saddens me to think about how future generations might never know the joy of meeting up with a random guy from Hinge to watch the latest Christopher Nolan release.

Once you step out of the theater, you have a lovely shared experience to dissect.

Over the years, I’ve seen naysayers disparage movie dates with claims that the setting isn’t conducive to good conversation. But I believe that’s the very beauty of it. You get to skirt past the awkward small talk phase, one in which you might flounder to find actually interesting discussion subjects, and enjoy 1.5–3 hours of socially mandated silence. And once you step out of the theater, you have a lovely shared experience to dissect—where you can unpack the plot, rank each of the characters, and judge cinematography that you honestly don’t have the expertise to judge. Maybe in doing so, you become more obsessed with your date and the smart, layered post-screening takes they possess. Or maybe that’s when you make note of the potential incompatibilities and red flags that their takeaways have revealed to you (if, say, they suggest that Sean Penn’s character in One Battle After Another was just misunderstood).

That’s not to say there isn’t ample room for romantic moments during the movie itself. Nothing beats the flutter you get when you notice that you and your date tend to laugh at the same parts, or when you lock eyes during a tense scene to silently express your disbelief. And fun fact, research has found that laughing or crying with a near-stranger during a film is one of the quickest ways to foster a significant bond—it puts you two in a “shared emotional state of high intensity” that some random crowded bar could literally never provide.

In the safety of a dark, cozy cinema, you can “accidentally” brush hands as you reach for overly salted popcorn…and perhaps let that physical contact escalate throughout the the film. Because in full seriousness, I think making out in the back row of a theater is a harmless and essential human experience (and sometimes inevitable, depending on what you’re watching).

You 100% lose the sexy, mysterious theater allure when you’re watching something on the same couch you binge Real Housewives from.

The beauty of a movie theater date cannot be captured by a night spent “Netflix and chilling,” if that’s even something people still say. You 100% lose the sexy, mysterious theater allure when you’re watching something on the same couch you binge Real Housewives from. Date nights at home can feel monotonous. They also nix the fun of getting dolled up and out of the house to meet up with someone new or not-so-new.

We cannot let the powers that be eliminate the near-perfect movie date option. And while I don’t think I have $108 billion to hop in the Warner Bros. bidding war and redirect the future of cinema, I do have an AMC A-list membership and know a couple of guys on Hinge who are willing to see Zootopia 2 with me this weekend. I think US ticket sales could use any boost they can find. So I suggest you follow suit.