Chapter 1: The Perfect First Date
It started like a scene from a romantic movie. Eric showed up five minutes early, holding a bouquet of fresh red roses and wearing that nervous-but-charming smile that made me think, Maybe this time, it's real.
He had chosen a cozy little Italian restaurant with candlelit tables and soft jazz humming in the background. He even brought a small wrapped gift—a keychain shaped like a book, because I had casually mentioned I loved to read. Thoughtful didn’t even begin to cover it.
Dinner flowed effortlessly. We laughed about childhood embarrassments, debated our favorite movies, and swapped travel stories like old friends rediscovering each other. He ordered the wine, pulled out my chair, and insisted on paying the full bill with a confident grin.
“A gentleman always pays on the first date,” he said smoothly.
By the time dessert arrived—tiramisu, which we shared—I was genuinely impressed. I texted my best friend Mia that night:
“He might actually be the one.”
Chapter 2: The Invoice
The next morning, I woke up smiling. Then I checked my phone—and the smile evaporated.
There it was. A message from Eric. But instead of a “Good morning” or “Had a great time,” it was… an invoice.
Yes, a real, itemized invoice.
He’d attached a PDF with the subject line: “Just squaring things up 😊.”
Every single part of the night was listed with monetary values:
-
Roses: $12
-
Keychain: $8
-
Dinner: $68
-
Wine: $26
-
Uber to restaurant: $14
-
“Great conversation”: $0 (but noted with “you’re welcome”)
-
Total Due: $128
-
“Preferred method of payment: Venmo or a second date.”
At first, I thought it was a joke. A weird, dry-humored attempt to be playful. But then I read the message he’d attached:
“Not trying to be awkward, just think it’s fair to split things unless there’s a next date to balance it out. Hope you understand :)”
Understand? I was speechless.
I screenshotted the whole thing and sent it to Mia with a single caption:
“WHAT. THE. HELL.”
Chapter 3: The Clapback
Mia responded in all caps:
“IS THIS GUY FOR REAL???”
Her boyfriend Chris, who’s normally chill and stays out of drama, couldn’t resist.
“Give me ten minutes,” he said. And he meant it.
What he created was a masterclass in petty justice—a parody invoice titled:
“Professional Lady’s Time & Emotional Labor – Billed to Eric.”
It read:
-
Emotional prep for date: $45
-
Outfit & makeup effort: $75
-
Listening to mediocre banter: $20
-
Pretending to be impressed by your crypto talk: $15
-
Smiling politely through “gentleman” lecture: $10
-
Emotional damage from invoice: $50
-
Keychain emotional depreciation: $6
-
Total Due: $221
-
“Preferred method of payment: Public apology or grow up.”
We sent it to Eric without a word.
He replied instantly.
“Wow. I was being reasonable. That’s completely immature.”
Which told us all we needed to know: He really believed his romantic gestures came with strings attached. That kindness, charm, and generosity were just investments he expected returns on.
The curtain had lifted, and behind the gentleman exterior stood a man keeping emotional receipts.
Chapter 4: Lesson Learned
I blocked Eric that night.
Not out of rage, but clarity. The type that comes when you realize you dodged something that looked good on paper but would’ve been toxic in real life.
I kept the keychain, weirdly enough. Not because it was sentimental, but because it became a reminder—of how easy it is to fall for packaging, and how important it is to check the fine print.
Real connections aren’t transactional. They’re not based on debt or obligation. They don’t come with invoices or veiled expectations.
Now, when I go on dates, I pay attention—not to how generous someone seems, but to how they treat generosity itself. Is it a gift, or a down payment?
That night with Eric didn’t lead to love, but it did leave me with something valuable:
A lesson wrapped in roses, receipts, and a keychain.
And I’ll take that over a second date any day.