When Eric told me he wanted to treat me to dinner, I thought I’d hit the jackpot — a rare, old-school gentleman. He brought flowers, gave me a thoughtful gift, held doors, and made me laugh. It felt like the perfect first date. But the next morning? Everything changed.
It all started when my best friend Mia decided to play matchmaker.
“Trust me, Kelly,” she gushed. “He’s polite, sweet, and totally your type.”
“You’ve never done this before,” I reminded her while holding up two dresses. “Why now?”
“Because I know you better than anyone,” she replied confidently. “And Chris vouches for him too!”
Chris was her boyfriend — someone whose opinion I actually trusted. That gave me enough confidence to at least look at the guy.
When Mia sent over Eric’s photo, I had to admit: he looked great. Clean-cut, confident, and with kind eyes. So we exchanged a few texts, and agreed to meet for dinner at a riverside Italian spot.
When I saw Eric walk up, I actually thought, Wow, he looks even better in person.
But what really surprised me was what he had in his hands — a beautiful bouquet of roses and a tiny gift box. Inside the box? A monogrammed keychain with my initial. He’d even asked Mia what I might like.
The date was smooth from start to finish. He was attentive, funny, interested. We shared stories, swapped podcast recs, and discovered a mutual love of obscure documentaries. It honestly felt like we’d known each other for ages.
When the bill came and I reached for my purse, Eric waved me off with a calm “I’ve got it. A man pays on the first date.” It was a little formal, but sweet.
I thanked him, we hugged goodbye, and I drove home smiling. I was sure I’d be hearing from him again.
I did. Just not the way I expected.
The next morning, I woke up to a message from Eric with a PDF attachment.
Inside? A Date Night Invoice. Yes, seriously.
Itemized. Labeled. Formatted. It was a full breakdown of everything he’d “paid for,” along with what he expected in return:
-
Roses = 1 hug
-
Keychain = 1 coffee date
-
Chair pulled out = Holding hands
-
Dinner = No-excuse second date
-
“Engaging conversation” = A compliment on his appearance
And at the bottom? “Payment expected in full. No refunds. Failure to comply may result in collections (Chris will hear about it).”
I was speechless.
I forwarded it to Mia, who immediately roped in Chris. Within minutes, Chris sent back a “reverse invoice” — charging Eric for wasting my time and daring to act like affection was something I owed him.
We sent it.
Eric flipped out. Said we were immature, accused me of “missing out on a great guy,” and called Chris a bad friend.
I didn’t even respond. Just hit him with a thumbs-up emoji and blocked his number.
Lesson learned: If a man insists on paying for the first date, double-check that he’s not expecting to be reimbursed in hugs, compliments, or your future affection.
Oh — and I kept the keychain. It’s a hilarious reminder that just when you think dating can’t get weirder… it does.