When my brother set me up with Andy, I didn’t expect sparks—but I didn’t expect an invoice either. He showed up with flowers, opened the car door, and played the part of a gentleman so well I almost believed it. Over dinner, he was attentive, funny, even charming. I broke my usual rule and let…
When my brother set me up with Andy, I didn’t expect sparks—but I didn’t expect an invoice either. He showed up with flowers, opened the car door, and played the part of a gentleman so well I almost believed it. Over dinner, he was attentive, funny, even charming. I broke my usual rule and let him drive me home. It felt like a promising first date… until the next morning.
At 7 a.m., my phone lit up with a PayPal request: $37.25 for our “evening out.” He’d itemized gas, parking, and—my personal favorite—“puddle splash marks” on his car. I actually laughed. This man had charged me for the cost of pretending to be decent. So I sent him $50 with a note: “$13 tip for opening the door. Cheers.” Then I blocked him.
When I told my brother, he was horrified—and furious. Especially after Andy tried spinning the date into a flex at his pickleball group. Turns out, this wasn’t a one-time stunt. A week later, I came across a TikTok from another woman who’d gotten the same absurd invoice. Watching the comments drag him was the closure I didn’t know I needed.
Sure, I’m still single—but I’m also smarter. I’ll happily pay for my own dinner, but I won’t reward a man who expects reimbursement for manners. From now on, I take my own ride, trust my gut, and keep the tips for waiters—not wannabe gentlemen with Venmo apps.