Aubree

It was a typical Saturday afternoon for Aubree Bennet. She was nursing a slight hangover from her girls night out, binge watching re-runs of Law and Order: SVU on Netflix,  checking her work email to see if her editor sent her notes on her latest article, and Tinder-ing like there was no tomorrow. During her swipe marathon, she came across Tyler.

Tyler, 27

5 miles away

About Tyler

“Be the change you want to see in the world”

Cali transplant living in NYC. Looking for a girl who is interested in hanging by my side as I  instill positive vibes into everyone I meet. I love to travel and do anything that is outdoors.  If you’re down to join me for the ride, shoot me a message 🙂

Tyler has dirty blonde hair, a scruffy yet neat beard, and blue eyes that are piercing even in a photo. Strikingly good looks aside, Tyler may be slightly too bohemian for Aubree’s taste. At least half of his pictures were shirtless, which is always red flag. One was with a surf board, another was next to bike on a hiking trail, and in the last one it looks like he is laying on a hammock that is tied between two palm trees. He is shirtless with purpose, but Tyler knows that putting his six pack on display will not hurt his cause.

In his clothed pictures Tyler is in an orphanage (or school) in sub-Saharan Africa surrounded by smiling children, dressed up in a tailored suit (occasion unclear), and sitting with a co-ed group of friends at a Fourth of July barbecue (deductive reasoning due to their patriotic attire). These pictures might have saved Tyler. He helps impoverished children, looks great in a suit, and has an active social life. If that is not a boy to bring home to mama, Aubree does not know what is.  She swipes right.

“It’s a match!” flashes across her screen. Less than five minutes later, a notification sound chimes on Aubree’s phone letting her know that Tyler sent her a message.

Tyler: Hey there!

Aubree: Hey! How’s it going?

Tyler: Pretty good! Just relaxing. What are you up to today?

Aubree: I’m just recovering from last night’s festivities lol

Tyler: Haha I feel ya there! Well, if you’re feeling up to it later we should grab a drink!

This was highly irregular for Aubree. She had a strict three day rule before meeting up with a guy from a dating app. How else can she weed out the potential murderers and rapists? Tyler seemed different though. He did not lead in with anything sexually explicit which unfortunately gives a guy huge brownie points on Tinder. Tyler was an overall Tinder unicorn— good looking, non-bro social life, and it did not hurt that he had a picture with needy children. Besides, Benson and Stabler would be there when she gets home.

Aubree: I’d be down for a drink 🙂

Tyler: Awesome! My cell # is 714-555-0323. Shoot me text and we will figure out the details 😀 

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Aubree pulls out her phone and opens the camera. After checking to see if her red lipstick is only on the places it should be, she moves on to surveying her curly mane. At this point, love it or hate it, it is what it is. She fluffs it a bit before checking the time—8:30 on the dot. Aubree did everything she could to be a few minutes late. This included spending an ungodly amount of time applying lip liner, changing her shoes twice, and leaving ten minutes later than she should have. Yet, here she stood in front of a Lower East Side dive bar perfectly on time. She hated getting to a first date promptly because it meant she might be the person sitting alone waiting for the other to arrive. Her phone beeps.

Tyler: Hey! I’m sitting all the way at the end of the bar.

Aubree has a habit of making non-awkward situations awkward. Right away, she spots Tyler in a light blue button down, khaki shorts, and penny loafers. She realizes that maybe he is not as bohemian as she thought which was a definite plus. Aubree begins looking around the half empty bar as if she cannot find him. She walks past Tyler continuing to pretend that she is frantically searching.

“Aubree?” a puzzled Tyler calls out.

She whips around abruptly and feigns surprise. Tyler stands up from his bar stool and offers his hand for her to shake. A comforting gesture for Aubree. She hates when first dates try to go in for a hug or kiss on the cheek. Aubree is not a very affectionate person, but she does not like for men to know that before the date even starts. He then gestures for her to sit in the available spot next to him offering her a happy smile as she sits down.

“What are you drinkin’?” Tyler asks.

“I’ll just have a vodka soda,” Aubree requests shyly.

Tyler quickly orders her drink before turning his entire body in her direction. Aubree can feel his eyes looking her up and down and suddenly feels extremely self-conscious. She is desperately hoping for an end to this stare down when he finally says, “So, I gotta say I am so happy you look like your picture. The last Tinder chick I met up with was like 15 pounds fatter than all her pictures.”

Not exactly what Aubree was hoping for in the second sentence Tyler ever said to her, but she supposed it could be taken as a compliment. Apparently on dating sites, looking like your picture is more optional than mandatory. This was not the first time that a date mentioned being happy she was who she said she was.

Aubree learns that Tyler moved here from Anaheim, California about a year ago and lives on the Lower East Side in a studio apartment. He does freelance graphic design which makes his constant travel (and goodwill) doable. Aubree tells him about her job at Chic, the fastest growing women’s fashion magazine in the country. She reveals that while she loves being a staff writer, she is working toward becoming an editor. After the third drink, it almost seems like there could be potential in this spontaneous match. Almost.

“So where are you from?” Tyler inquires.

Aubree takes a gulp of her drink before replying, “I was born and raised in New Jersey.”

“Oh no, I meant like culturally,” he says with a serious look as if  she was trying to conceal a deep secret.

Aubree knew that is what he meant. That is what they always mean, but she likes to say “New Jersey” to throw them off. This question is also something that Aubree has heard before. Her blonde (dyed) curly afro, caramel complexion, and green eyes give her an “exotic” look. It also did not hurt that even though she was petite, she was not completely devoid of curves. The fact of the matter is that it was not that complicated. She feels like she always lets people down when she gives them the answer. It seems as though they are always expecting a more exciting origin story.

“I’m bi-racial. My dad is a European mut and my mom is Jamaican,” Aubree tells him.

“Oh wow Jamaican gyal! Was your mom like born there?” Tyler counters.

It takes every fiber of Aubree’s being to not roll her eyes. If she had a dollar for every time she got a “No problem, mon”, “gyal”, or something of that nature when she said she was Jamaican, she certainly would not be living in a walk up in Williamsburg. Aubree actually loathes Brooklyn and hipsters alike. Her choosing to live there is only to avoid the shoe boxes that most of her friends call bedrooms in Manhattan.

“No, Coney Island. My grandparents came here before she was born,” she retorts.

Tyler gives her a disappointed stare before placing his hand on her thigh, “Well whatever you are, you’re pretty damn sexy. I have a thing for women of color.”

“Uh thanks,” Aubree replies sheepishly.

Dating white men is not new for Aubree, but it does not make statements like “women of color”, “ethnic”, “exotic”, etc. any less bothersome. She will never understand the need to mention it. Aubree is  unable to really delve into this inner monologue though because there is still the matter of his inappropriate hand placement. It was bit presumptuous to assume that she would be okay with it to say the least.

She is strongly regretting wearing her high waisted Levi’s shorts as she can now feel the heat coming off his hand. Aubrey shifts her leg in the hope that he will take the hint.  It has the opposite effect because now he begins to rub his hand up and down her thigh. Aubree pulls out her phone to check the time. It is 9:30. She met this man one hour ago, how is she already in this predicament?

“So, what are you plans for tonight? What do you say we have the next drink at my place?” Tyler says with a smile—his hand still stroking Aubree’s thigh inching further and further up.

“You know what, I have an early day tomorrow,” Aubree delcares while avoiding eye contact.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Tyler bluntly replies with a confused expression.

She lifts his hand off, “Family stuff. I actually should be getting going.”

He places his hand right back in the original uncomfortable location,”Aw man really?”

Aubree stands up quickly, ” Yes.”

Tyler wraps his arm around her waist slightly grazing her bottom, “Well, we gotta do this again.”

She unwinds from his grasp, smiles weakly at him, and waves goodbye. It feels as though Aubree is running out of the bar to get away from him. A pile of garbage on the street is the most beautiful sight she has ever seen. The crisp summer breeze gives her a sense of sweet relief. As she heads to the subway, Aubree makes a mental note to never go on Tinder date on the first day ever again. Vetting is key. Her phone beeps.

Tyler: Til next time sexy 😉

It was like they were on two different dates. On Tyler’s date, Aubree was into the groping and was hoping for more. On Aubree’s date, she felt violated and like she was in need of a long shower when she got home. He clearly did not see things this way because he would continue to send her dirty texts for months to come with no replies until she finally decides to block his number.  Aubree made sure to send a very strongly worded text about how a man should speak to a woman he barely knows first though.

Vet, Aubree. Always vet.