A friend of mine set me up with a man named Ryan, and honestly, the date started better than I could have imagined.
He arrived with a bouquet of roses, not the cheap kind from a grocery store, but a real florist’s arrangement. He was polite, funny, and attentive all evening. He opened doors, pulled out my chair, and made me feel like I was in an old-fashioned romance movie.
Dinner was lovely, and the conversation flowed so naturally that I completely relaxed.
When the bill arrived, I reached for my purse out of habit.
Ryan smiled, gently pushed my hand away, and said, “Absolutely not. A man pays on the first date.”
I thought it was sweet.
I went home smiling, convinced my friend had set me up with one of the most thoughtful men I’d ever met.
The next morning, I woke up, checked my phone, and froze.
Ryan had sent me a payment request.
Not a joke. Not a message.
An actual itemized request for half the dinner, plus the flowers, plus parking.
At first I just stared at it.
Then I noticed the note attached:
“Since you seemed like a modern woman, I figured splitting everything was only fair.”
I laughed out loud, declined the request, and blocked him.
Apparently, chivalry had an overnight refund policy.
