As I pull into the Wild Waves parking lot, girls in bikinis bounce toward the park's entrance. A group of shirtless guys chug energy drinks on the hood of a car. The sun breaks through the clouds and Jay-Z can be heard blasting inside the park.

From the parking lot, Wild Waves feels like a Meat Market of epic proportions. But just like most of Wild Waves' sunburned coaster-riders, looks can be deceiving from 50 yards out.

A number of problems exist for singles looking for lovin' at Wild Waves. First, the park is built for kids. At least 70 percent of the crowd is younger than 16 and with their parents. This estimation is confirmed when I ask an attractive male lifeguard if it's easy to meet a cute girl in the park.

"It's easy if you're 14 or you like 14-year-olds," he says, eyeballing my chest hair.

Which brings us to our second problem: exposed chests. While one might think shirtless men and bikini-clad ladies are a combustible mix, this couldn't be further from the truth. Most of Wild Waves' patrons sport a few extra pounds around the midsection. A few extra pounds and a few nasty tattoos. After witnessing a handful of these mammoth guts, it's not uncommon for the libido to shut down for the rest of the day. And girls that actually do look good in their swimwear keep their arms folded in front of them as if to say, "Not a chance in hell, Speedo-boy." 

No, a day at the park is meant for sharing an elephant ear with a friend. It's meant for puking violently after an ill-advised ride on the TimberHawk. It's meant for rounding second base in the bushes with a girlfriend. After a couple of arm-folded rebuffs and biting laughs, I quickly find out that Wild Waves isn't meant for cruising solo. Sure, the sun is out, the faces are tan and the tunes are blaring, but if you come to Wild Waves alone, you'll be stuck on top of Zooma Falls with no tubing partner in sight. 

[Wild Waves Theme Park, $39.99 daily admission, 36201 Enchanted Parkway S., Federal Way, 253.661.8000]