When I asked where we were going, he said it was a surprise.

It turned out that he had booked us a table at the most expensive restaurant in town, and I was thrilled. It felt like something out of a movie—fine wine, lobsters, oysters, risotto with white truffles.

I had never eaten anything more delicious than that night.

But when it was time to pay the $3,180 bill, my stomach dropped as Andrew pulled out his phone and started—

fumbling through different payment apps.

I watched as his face twisted into something between confusion and panic. He swiped, tapped, and even tried restarting his phone. Meanwhile, the waiter stood by with an unreadable expression, holding out the check politely but firmly.

“Uh,” Andrew cleared his throat, forcing a chuckle. “Looks like my payment isn’t going through. Must be the Wi-Fi or something.”

I swallowed. “Try again?”

He did. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time, a small shake of his head. The waiter glanced at me now, and I felt the back of my neck start to burn.

Then, Andrew did something that made my blood run cold.

He looked at me and said, “Babe, do you mind covering this? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

I blinked. Surely, he was joking.

“Andrew,” I whispered, “I don’t have three thousand dollars just lying around.”

He shifted uncomfortably, still trying to keep his smile. “It’s fine! I’ll send it to you first thing in the morning.”

A knot formed in my stomach. Something about his voice didn’t feel reassuring. I took a shaky breath and reached for my purse. I had some savings, sure, but this was ridiculous.

The waiter, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. “We also accept payment in installments,” he said smoothly. “Or, if you’d prefer, we can step aside and discuss alternative solutions.”

Alternative solutions? That didn’t sound good.

“Let me just…” I pulled out my phone and checked my bank account. If I paid this, I’d barely have enough for rent this month.

Andrew put a hand over mine. “Babe, come on. Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s just a temporary thing.”

A temporary thing? The audacity. My mind raced. Who takes someone to a restaurant this expensive without making sure they can cover it? Why would he even risk that?

Then, it hit me.

I looked up at Andrew. Really looked at him. The way his hands were fidgeting, the forced casual tone, the way he wasn’t even looking at the check anymore.

I had heard stories about this. People who invite their partners or friends to fancy restaurants, order the most expensive items, then conveniently “forget” their wallets or claim a payment issue—forcing the other person to foot the bill.

Could he have planned this?

I wasn’t about to find out.

I slowly put my phone down. “Andrew,” I said, keeping my voice even. “You invited me out. You planned this. You pay.”

His face twitched. “I will—tomorrow.”

“No.” I folded my arms. “You either figure out a way to pay now or we both wash dishes in the back. But I’m not bailing you out.”

Silence.

For the first time, the charm slipped. Annoyance flickered across his face, then something else—something like panic.

I turned to the waiter. “Do you have an ATM nearby?”

“There’s one at the entrance,” he said.

“Perfect.” I grabbed my purse and stood up. “Andrew, why don’t we go check your balance?”

He didn’t move.

I narrowed my eyes. “Andrew.”

He exhaled sharply. Then, in the most unbelievable, ridiculous move of the night—he bolted.

He actually ran out of the restaurant.

I sat there, stunned. The waiter’s eyebrows shot up. Other diners turned to stare. A manager, alerted by the commotion, stepped forward.

It took a full five seconds for me to process what had just happened.

Then, I did the only thing I could. I laughed. A short, incredulous laugh.

“He left me,” I said, shaking my head. “Wow. He actually left me.”

The waiter, to his credit, looked more amused than angry. “Miss, do you have any way to contact him?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. But I doubt he’ll answer.”

We called. No response. Texted. No response.

And that’s when I made another decision.

I wasn’t about to pay for a meal I didn’t plan.

I looked at the manager and said, “I’ll help wash dishes.”

He blinked. “You… what?”

“I’ll work it off,” I said, standing taller. “I’m not paying for someone else’s trick.”

For a second, he studied me. Then, to my absolute surprise, he smiled.

“You know what? I like you,” he said. “Come with me.”

Instead of sending me to the back, he sat me down at the bar and asked what had happened. I told him everything. He listened, nodded, then sighed.

“Well, you don’t deserve to be punished for someone else’s mistake.”

Then he did something unexpected. He comped my part of the meal.

“You only owe for what you ordered,” he said. “Which, considering how much that guy ate, is a fraction of the total.”

I almost cried. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “But you might want to rethink your dating choices.”

No kidding.

I paid my small portion and left, my heart still pounding, my emotions swinging between relief, anger, and disbelief.

And Andrew?

Oh, he texted me the next morning.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. My phone died, and I panicked. Let’s meet up, and I’ll pay you back.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I blocked him.

And that was the end of that.

What’s the lesson here?

🚩 If someone invites you out, they should be able to pay.
🚩 Don’t let anyone guilt-trip you into covering for their irresponsibility.
🚩 Pay attention to red flags early—because this? This wasn’t an accident.

I dodged a bullet that night. And if my story can help someone else avoid the same, then it was worth sharing.

Would you have handled it differently? Let me know in the comments! And if you enjoyed this story, don’t forget to share it. ❤️