One woman’s tale of a fancy dinner gone terribly wrong.
While I was out running errands one evening, I met a guy and we exchanged information. After a few phone conversations, I agreed to go out on our first date. I mentioned his name to a friend of mine and she told me she knew him and that he was a client of hers. I felt much safer after hearing this. How bad could he be? You don’t know the half of it!
The night of our date, he picked me up and took me to one of the hottest seafood restaurants in town. We waited over an hour before we were seated. The conversation was super boring, but I tried to dismiss it as first date jitters, and we sat down to eat.
When it came time to order our meals, this guy ordered everything on the menu – no joke. I’m talking drinks, appetizers, an entrée, and dessert. Then he actually managed to consume it all. Towards the end of his feast, he called the waiter over to our table and began to complain about the food.
The waiter offered his apologizes but my date felt that was not sufficient. He asked for the manager. I was already mortified. When the manager arrived at our table, he began ranting about the poor quality of the food. The manager brings out the chef. Now we have every single pair of eyes in the jam-packed restaurant on us while my date put on an Oscar-winning performance about how horrible the restaurant was – I was so humiliated.
I excused myself and went and stood in the ladies room. At this point I was in tears. I peeped out the door about 10 minutes later and he was just sitting at table, confident and smirking, as if he thought he was the king of the world. I walked out and headed straight for the car – I never even stopped at the table. He was totally satisfied with himself because he didn’t have to pay for a thing. (Which was clearly his plan all along.)
We rode to my house in silence. I walked into my apartment and locked the door behind me. Would you believe this clown had the nerve to yell thru the door, “I took you out to a nice restaurant and you’re not even gonna let me get any?”
I yelled back out my window that if he stood out there any longer, I was calling the police and report him for stalking me.
Needless to say, I never took his calls again. What a jerk! If you can’t afford to take me out, don’t.
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