Bad Date #5 - Really?? Another bad tipper
/I know I’ve told this story to a few people already, but it deserves a place in the Bad Dates Hall of Fame.
A couple of weeks ago, I thought I had finally made a genuine connection with someone. We’d been talking regularly, building up comfort and chemistry over the phone. I was cautiously optimistic.
So for our first date, I made an effort—hair, outfit, energy all on point.
He showed up... in military green cargo pants and a plaid shirt. Not terrible, but let’s just say, not exactly first-date energy. Still, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, we clicked on the phone. Maybe this could work.
And Then Came the Check...
Dinner went smoothly. Good conversation. I was trying to stay open. But when the bill arrived, something shifted.
Let me pause to say:
I’m a little old-fashioned. If a man invites me on a date, chooses the place, and sets the plans—he should cover the bill. Especially on a first date.
The check sat there for 30 minutes.
I could feel him waiting for me to offer to split it.
Then he conveniently excused himself to the bathroom. While he was gone, I peeked at the check. 👀
When he returned, he finally put down his card. Relief, right?
Until I saw him sign—and leave a $5 tip on a bill well over $100. That’s barely 5%.
And let me be clear:
Our waiter was amazing.
He knew the menu, gave great wine recommendations, and was genuinely charming.
I felt so bad that I later sent the restaurant a compliment card—and included a generous tip.
Trying to Talk Myself Into It...
After dinner, we went for a walk. I was trying to convince myself it wasn’t that bad. Maybe he was nervous? Maybe he forgot cash?
But I just couldn’t get past it.
That feeling stuck.
When we wrapped up the walk, I told him I was tired and needed to go home. (A white lie—but one that saved me.)
The Aftermath
The next day, he sent a routine “good morning” text. I decided to be honest—well, partially.
I replied:
“Listen, I think it’s best we stay friends.”
He called immediately.
“What happened?”
I didn’t want to be harsh, so I said I just didn’t feel the chemistry. Not a total lie—but not the full truth.
He got defensive.
“You’re not who I thought you were. You lied to me.”
Then the texts started—accusing me of being influenced by my friends, questioning my character, spiraling into full-on emotional chaos.
Finally, I told him the truth.
I said the tip thing turned me off. That it felt inconsiderate and reflected poorly—especially for a first date. That the expectation for me to split the bill wasn’t communicated and felt unfair, given he invited me and chose the restaurant.
He admitted he got caught—but then tried to justify it.
“You can’t judge me off that one action. I’m not cheap.”
“I’m on a budget.”
“I didn’t expect the bill to be that high.”
Seriously?
This man was from New York and didn’t know what a decent restaurant would cost?
Do your research. Don’t guilt me for expecting basic courtesy.
Final Thoughts
Needless to say,
That was the first and last date.
Another one for the archives.
Another reminder that if someone shows you who they are at the tip line—believe them.