When my best friend Mia first brought up the idea of setting me up with her boyfriend’s close friend, I groaned inside. I have never enjoyed blind dates. They always feel like job interviews mixed with awkward small talk. But Mia was determined to convince me. She insisted this guy would be different.
“You are going to adore him,” she told me again and again. “He is respectful. He has a great career. He listens when people speak. He is the real deal.”
Her confidence made me curious. After a couple of days of gentle pressure, I agreed. His name was Eric. The moment we exchanged numbers, I noticed that he communicated thoughtfully. He asked questions with real interest. He spelled everything correctly. He did not rely on emojis to fill empty space. It surprised me to feel comfortable talking to someone I had never actually met.
After a week of friendly back and forth messages about music, movies, and favorite travel spots, he asked if I wanted to grab dinner at a well known Italian restaurant downtown. The place had great reviews and a romantic atmosphere. I took it as a positive sign.
When the evening arrived, everything looked like a scene from a carefully planned first date. Eric arrived early and waited near the entrance holding a bouquet of red roses. He wore a clean white shirt that looked freshly pressed and smelled faintly of cologne that was warm but not overpowering. He handed me the flowers with a confident but polite smile. It felt like he had actually thought about making a good impression.
Inside the restaurant, he pulled out my chair and complimented my dress. He gave me a small gift wrapped in velvet. It was a silver keychain with the first letter of my name engraved on it. He explained that he wanted me to remember the night. It was surprising because most men do not bother with small details like that.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself think that this could maybe turn into something real. Conversation came easily. We joked about terrible dating app stories. We talked about the places we still hoped to travel. He mentioned that he missed movie theaters where you could actually get popcorn for a normal price. I laughed harder than I expected.
When the bill arrived, I reached automatically for my purse. He stopped me with a light shake of his head.
“The first date is on the man,” he said with smooth confidence while handing his card to the waiter.
It felt a little like a rehearsed line, but it was charming in its own way. I appreciated the gesture and thanked him.
After dinner, he walked me to my car. He offered his arm as if we were in a classic movie. He waited until I unlocked my door and started the engine before saying goodnight. I drove home thinking how long it had been since a date felt that relaxed and respectful. I messaged Mia the moment I parked.
You might have been right about him.
I fell asleep with a quiet sense of excitement.
The next day, I reached for my phone with a smile already forming. I expected a message saying he enjoyed the night too. Instead, there was an email notification with the subject line: Invoice for Last Night.
I frowned, confused. I assumed it was a joke. Maybe a funny meme about expensive pasta. I opened it.
My confusion turned instantly into disbelief.
He had created a real invoice. It looked professional. It had a logo. It had rows of charges as if our date had been a list of business transactions.
Dinner: one hundred twenty dollars. Already paid.
Roses: “A courtesy that requires a hug as compensation.”
Keychain: “Gift that must be repaid through a coffee outing.”
Emotional effort: “Kindness and affection recommended next time to show gratitude.”
At the bottom of the page, bold text stood out like a threat:
Failure to comply may result in Chris being informed.
Chris. My friend Mia’s boyfriend. Eric’s best friend.
I set my phone down and stared into space. It felt like the entire pleasant evening had been ripped apart. What kind of man keeps score like this. What kind of person thinks affection is a debt someone must repay.
I sent Mia a message. You need to see this.
I forwarded her the invoice. She responded instantly, not bothering with punctuation.
What on earth. He is out of his mind. Do not reply to him.
But Mia did not stop there. She was offended for me. She told Chris everything. Chris reacted with equal disgust and absolute amusement. Together they decided to respond in a way that would show Eric exactly how ridiculous he had been.
That afternoon, Chris drafted his own invoice and sent it straight to Eric. This one looked even more official. It had a fake company title at the top. Karma and Company.
The list included:
Fee for causing unnecessary stress to a woman.
Fine for embarrassing yourself in public.
Charge for sitting next to someone who is too good for you.
And then the final warning:
Nonpayment can and will result in damage to your social reputation.
Only a few minutes passed before my phone lit up.
Eric bombarded me with messages.
“You are taking this too seriously.”
“It was humor. You clearly cannot handle jokes.”
“You are overreacting.”
Then finally.
“You just lost the chance to date a truly good man.”
I stared at those words and almost laughed. A truly good man does not invoice a woman for kindness. A truly good man does not treat a date like a contract.
I sent him one single thumbs up emoji. Then I blocked his number.
That evening, Mia called me. She apologized between fits of laughter. She promised that she had no idea her boyfriend’s friend had this bizarre personality. She kept saying she owed me for the chaos she caused.
But I honestly was relieved. If he had hidden his entitlement longer, I might have wasted time trying to figure him out. Instead, his mask slipped early.
Later that night, I looked at the email again. I tried to understand what he was thinking. Did he want to prove he had power. Was he trying to control the situation. Did he believe that effort makes someone automatically owed something in return.
His behavior felt polished in the worst way. The invoice looked too prepared to be spontaneous. Something told me that he had either done this before or imagined himself doing it for a long time. He probably expected me to laugh and play along.
He expected me to validate his ego.
Instead, I showed him indifference.
In the days that followed, Mia and Chris stopped talking to him altogether. He continued to defend his actions by saying women today are too sensitive and do not appreciate humor. He refused to admit he crossed a line. It said everything we needed to know.
Meanwhile, my phone stayed quiet. I felt free from whatever storyline he had prepared in his head.
When I think about that night now, it feels like a lesson disguised as a date. It started like something romantic. Flowers. Conversation. Politeness. It ended with a message that exposed the truth. He was not generous. He was transactional. He was not charming. He was controlling.
There is a very big difference between a thoughtful gesture and a calculated move used to create a sense of obligation.
Now when someone asks about my worst date experience, I tell them without hesitation.
“The guy who billed me afterward.”
Everyone laughs at first. Then I tell them every detail. They always end up shaking their heads.
He thought I owed him something for one pleasant evening. What I really gained was awareness. I paid attention to who he was beneath the performance. And that was worth much more than the cost of dinner.
If a person sees affection as a favor you must repay, they are not looking for love. They are hunting for control. I am grateful I saw it early.
Some lessons come wrapped in roses and an invoice.