Cheap Bastard

I went out with this guy the other night and things were going fine until (gasp) the bill came. Sure enough, we split the bill straight down the middle. Straight down the middle even though he had two glasses of wine and I had one. Even though he killed the appetizers and I just picked at them.

I don’t know what it is. Is it because I mentioned I bought a place here in the city? Is it because I work for a great company? Do these guys think I’m made out of money because I’m not! I’ve got a mortgage and a hefty student loan I’ll be paying until I retire.

What do I need to do these days to get a guy to pay? I’d even appreciate it if a guy says, “Hey let me pay more since I did get an extra glass of wine and I ate more than you.” But that has never ever happened to me and I’ve gone on a lot of dates.

Once again, he’s the one who asked me out. And again, I ended up subsidizing another guy’s night.

I’m not done yet. We got in a cab. Guess what happened. Yup, I PAID!!! He sat there futzing around in his wallet. I took a while as well, trying to “find” my wallet in my very well-organized purse. But he took even longer. There was clearly a wad of cash there. I was about to scream, “Look buddy, unless you’re counting out rupees or yuan, this shouldn’t be difficult.” I paid, of course, and decided at that moment that it wasn’t simply that I didn’t want to see him again…I really wanted to kill him.