Okay, so my friend, bless her heart, set me up on a date. I wasn’t super optimistic, honestly. Dating apps are a wasteland, and blind dates? Usually a recipe for disaster. But this guy, Mark, seemed…different. He actually called to confirm the date, not just a text, a phone call! Already a win in my book. Then he showed up with flowers. Not some gas station bouquet, but actual, honest-to-goodness roses. Okay, so far, so good, right? Dinner was at this cute little Italian place downtown, the kind with string lights and handwritten menus. Mark was charming, funny, and genuinely seemed interested in what I had to say. He opened doors, pulled out my chair, the whole nine yards. I was actually starting to think, “Wow, maybe I’ve finally found a decent guy!” We talked for hours, about everything and nothing. Work, travel, our families, our favorite books. It was easy, effortless conversation, the kind you only have with people you really connect with. And then, the bill came. I instinctively reached for my wallet, ready to split it, because, hello, it’s 2024. But Mark stopped me, a slight smile playing on his lips. He said, “Absolutely not. A man always pays on the first date.” Old-fashioned? Maybe. But I kind of liked it. It was a nice gesture, a throwback to a different era. So I let him pay, thanked him profusely, and we walked out, both buzzing from what felt like a really successful evening.
…………………………………………..
👇 [ CONTINUE READING ] 👇
…………………………………………..
I went home with that giddy feeling, replaying the date in my head. “He’s so cute,” I thought to myself, **”Could he be the one?”** I couldn’t wait to tell my friend all about it. I felt like I had won the lottery. It was one of the best first dates I had ever been on.
The next morning, I woke up, made some coffee, and checked my phone. I had a text from Mark. “Good morning! I had a great time last night.” Aww, sweet, right? Wrong. Attached to the text was a PDF. Curious, I opened it. It was an itemized bill. For my half of the dinner. Every single item was broken down, from the appetizers to the wine to the tax. At first, I thought it was a joke. A really, really bad joke. But then I realized he was serious. He really expected me to pay him back for my half of the first date, after he had insisted on paying.
I was completely speechless. I sat there, staring at the bill, my jaw practically on the floor. I mean, who does that? Who insists on paying, makes a big deal about being a gentleman, and then sends you a detailed invoice the next day? It was the most bizarre, insulting, and frankly, hilarious thing that had ever happened to me. I immediately screenshot the invoice and sent it to my group chat with my girlfriends. Their reactions were priceless. A mixture of shock, disbelief, and uncontrollable laughter. One of them suggested I send him a bill for the emotional distress he had caused me.
I decided to confront Mark. I texted him back, “Is this a joke?” He replied, “No, I don’t think so. A man can be traditional and want to pay for the first date, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bank. I was just trying to be a gentleman. I fully expected that you’d pay your half later. Times are hard. Thanks for understanding.”
I am still at a loss for words. I think I’m going to stick to splitting the bill from now on. I don’t think I will ever understand people. I think I would rather stay home and watch TV, rather than going on a date again. I don’t know if I will ever trust anyone again.
