He chose this fancy new spot downtown — amazing views, gourmet dishes, expensive drinks. We were cheering to my new role and dreaming big about the future. But then this bill arrived and things took a turn. Tom suddenly insists I give him my card to pay, being all irritated, “You’re the one who’s promoted here, I don’t have enough money for these fancy dinners!” I ask him, “Why not just let me handle it then?” But he goes, “I want the waitress to see I’m taking care of the bill. It’s embarrassing, you’re humiliating me by not letting me be the man who pays.” I handed over my card to keep the peace. But later, on my way back from the restroom, I see him at the bar, flirting and giving his number to the waitress! I was LIVID, not just about the bill anymore, but at his audacity. I had to teach him a good lesson. So, I called
…the waitress over, right in front of him.
With the sweetest smile, I said loud enough for the whole bar to hear:
“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for taking my boyfriend’s number. Since I’m the one who paid for this dinner — with my promotion money — maybe you can also remind him to pay me back for the drinks he ordered while trying to impress you.”
The poor waitress looked mortified, shoved the slip of paper back into his hand, and walked away.
Tom’s face? Priceless. Red, furious, and embarrassed — exactly the humiliation he was so desperate to avoid earlier.
I tossed a twenty on the counter, told him he could find his own ride home, and walked out.
Because if he can’t handle a woman’s success — and tries to flirt his way out of his own insecurity — then he doesn’t deserve to sit at my table, let alone at my future.
Lesson served. 🍷
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