When the bill arrived, I reached for my purse, out of habit. Eric waved me off with a confident grin. “A man pays on the first date,” he said. It was old-fashioned, but I didn’t argue. It seemed harmless, maybe even sweet in its own way. After dinner, he walked me to my car, waited while I unlocked it, and didn’t try to push for a kiss. He just smiled, said he’d had a wonderful evening, and told me to drive safe. I went home thinking, Wow, that actually went well.
The next morning, I woke up smiling, half-expecting a text that said something like, Last night was great—want to do it again? Instead, I saw an email. The subject line stopped me cold: Invoice for Last Night.
At first, I thought it had to be a joke. But when I opened it, my stomach dropped. The document listed every single thing from the night before—dinner, drinks, flowers, even the keychain—each with a specific dollar amount. And then came the kicker: a line item labeled “Emotional Labor – $50,” with a note underneath that read, “For maintaining engaging conversation.”
At the bottom of the email, a message in bold read: “Failure to comply may result in Chris hearing about it.” Chris was Mia’s boyfriend—the one who had introduced us. The implication was clear: pay up, or he’d stir up drama.
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