I thought I was meeting a charming, well-mannered man for dinner.
What I didn’t expect was to wake up the next morning to an official-looking invoice in my inbox—detailing the “services” of our first date and demanding payment in full. At first, I laughed nervously. Was this a joke? A quirky sense of humor? Or something far stranger?
Eric had insisted on paying for our first date, which initially felt like hitting the jackpot. Roses, a thoughtful gift, effortless conversation—he seemed to check every box. My best friend, Mia, who occasionally played matchmaker, had vouched for him enthusiastically.
“He’s a total gentleman,” she said. “Chris vouches for him too.”
A few texts later, we agreed to meet at a riverside Italian restaurant. I arrived early, fussing over my appearance. Eric approached with a professional bouquet of roses and a small silver keychain, engraved with my initials. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, and made conversation flow like he’d done it his whole life. Topics ranged from true crime podcasts to the quirkiest documentaries we’d stumbled across. Dinner went perfectly—until the check arrived.
As I reached for my purse, he shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. A man pays on the first date.” I hesitated, then shrugged. Why argue?
The next morning, my phone buzzed. Eric had sent a detailed Date Night Invoice, complete with itemized “charges”:
Rose bouquet: 1 hug
Keychain gift: 1 coffee date
Full dinner and tip: 1 second date promised
The invoice ended with a stern warning: payment in full was expected, or Chris—Mia’s boyfriend—would be notified.
Mia and I were speechless. Then Chris called, laughing so hard he could barely speak. Within minutes, he created a mirrored invoice, complete with parody legal language and absurd charges, and sent it to Eric. The inbox chaos that followed was instant—Eric was bewildered, confused, and thoroughly roasted.
I didn’t respond—there was nothing to say to someone who treated a date like a business transaction. I sent a single thumbs-up emoji and blocked his number. The keychain? I kept it. Not as a reminder of Eric, but as a souvenir of the most absurd, hilarious first date of my life.
Conclusion
First dates often reveal more than chemistry—they expose personalities, boundaries, and sometimes, a very particular sense of humor. What began as a charming evening became a story Mia, Chris, and I will laugh about for years. Life—and dating—rarely goes as planned, but if you can find humor in the chaos, even the weirdest experiences become unforgettable memories.