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The Twi-White Zone of AU Dating

college culture


American University


- satire

The Twi-White Zone of AU Dating

I mean, it's not like GW guys are better


Another day, another date.

Listen, sometimes it doesn’t work out. That one guy you thought was going on a date with you because he wanted something other than sex just wasn’t what you expected. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I know what his profile said too. It seemed too good to be true.

“Steve - 6’1. Swipe right if you wanna have fun. Feminist.”

I mean what more could you possibly want? You go back to your room and lie on your bed, lamenting to your cuffed roommate who’s heard the same story too many times to count.

The guy sounded SO sincere when he suggested the date. But you caught on once he asked if you wanted to go back to his dorm when y’all were still in the line at Starbucks. He would “ask his roommate to leave”. They’re chill like that, he says. You endured the mindless small talk for the free coffee and left before he got too comfortable. What went wrong? Well, I guess all we can do is move on. The carbon copies of white guys with brown hair surrounded by other brown-haired white guys in their tinder pics are sprawling on this campus. I’m sure one of them can’t be too bad.

Another day, another date.

“Yeah, I just don’t understand why women don’t get paid the same as men, like, it’s so unfair, you know? Like come on, America.” Oh, this was a good monologue. You let him continue his unsolicited pitch on women’s rights because you know that if you try and comment on the innate privileges of men, he’ll ironically cut you off and defend himself and his bros from your attacks. You look at your phone and at his profile. It’s nothing new, the bio basically screaming: “I will tell you I respect women for the sole purpose of having sex with said women.”

The hair is a little different this time though. He probably uses some other leading-brand male’s 2-in-1 Shampoo + Conditioner. Not like it matters. You take your free coffee from the Bridge and just watch him tire himself out with the progressive buzzwords he saw on a Snapchat discovery page.

Another day, another date.

He’s a little more liberal than most, he promises. He’s challenging social norms, he vows. You say hi and he must’ve heard “where do you work?” because now you’re stuck in a conversation about his latest Hillternship. He wants to be a congressman one day, but they all do. You slowly drink your Vietnamese coffee in order to get the espresso fix you’ll need to get through this one.

But then, in the middle of an especially long sip, you hear an echo nearly shattering the windows of the Dav. In unison, like a chant, from all around you, you hear “Where are you from? I’m from Boston. Well, I’m from outside Boston. I’m from the suburbs…” You look to your left and see another girl equally as bored. In front of her, is your date. Or someone that looks exactly like your date. You look to your right. It’s him again having the same conversation. All around you is the same white guy with brown hair. They’re everywhere. They’re all the same.