One unforgettable night started as the perfect date.

Now he wanted itemized reimbursement.

I opened the request details. He had split everything exactly down the middle — appetizer, entrees, tax, tip. Even the dessert he insisted we share.

I typed, deleted, retyped.

Finally, I replied:
“I offered to pay my half last night. You said no.”

Three dots appeared.

“Well, I didn’t want to embarrass you in public. But relationships should be equal.”

Embarrass me?

I felt the roses on my kitchen counter suddenly look ridiculous. Like props from a performance.

I thought about sending the money just to avoid the awkwardness. But something about the whole thing felt… transactional. Like the flowers, the door-opening, the chair-pulling — all of it was part of some script.

So instead, I declined the request.

And I sent one last message.

“I agree. Relationships should be equal. Next time, let’s just split the check at the table.”

A minute later, he unsent the Venmo request.

Then came a final text.

“Wow. Didn’t realize you were this kind of woman.”

I smiled at my screen.

And just like that, the best first date ever officially became the funniest first date story I’ve ever had.

The roses?
I gave them to my neighbor.

She said they were beautiful.

I said, “They were.”