My date ordered a $150 lobster dinner on our first date and then refused to pay — moments later, karma hit her right there in front of me. I met her on Tinder. Nothing unusual — we matched, exchanged a few messages, and she seemed normal enough. Funny, confident, the kind of person who knew exactly what she wanted. We agreed to meet for dinner a few days later. Before we even picked the place, I said it straight: “I usually prefer to split the bill on first dates.” She didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” she replied. “That’s fair.” So I thought we were on the same page. The restaurant she chose wasn’t cheap, but I didn’t think much of it. It was a first date — I figured we’d both keep it reasonable. I was wrong. The moment the waiter came over, she didn’t even look at the menu for long. “I’ll have the lobster,” she said casually. It was the most expensive thing on the menu. I ordered something simple. Not cheap, but definitely nowhere near what she picked. The whole time, she kept talking like nothing was off — like this was completely normal. When the bill came, I glanced at it. Her meal alone was more than half the bill. Still, I stayed calm. “Alright,” I said, pulling out my card, “we’ll just split it like we said.” She leaned back in her chair and looked at me like I’d just said something ridiculous. “I’m not paying,” she said. I actually thought she was joking. “What?” She shrugged. “You’re the man. Men pay. That’s how I’ve always done it.” I stared at her, trying to process what I was hearing. “You agreed to split it.” “Yeah,” she said, completely unfazed. “But I didn’t think you’d actually mean it.” At that point, I was honestly getting angry. Not just because of the money — but because of how casually she said it, like I was the one being unreasonable. And just as I was about to respond, karma stepped in.

A few days of back-and-forth and Chloe suggested dinner.

So, I texted Chloe: “Hey, just so we’re clear, I usually split the bill on a first date. Makes it easier, and that way, we’d be on the same page.”

She replied in less than a minute: “That’s fair! No worries at all.”

It felt settled.

“Okay, Evan,” I told myself. “Maybe we’ve found a good one.”

***

Chloe picked the place, a sleek seafood restaurant downtown. It was all dim lighting and soft jazz, and it was the kind of spot where the menu does not have prices until you squint.

“That’s fair! No worries at all.”

That evening, I ironed a shirt I had not worn since Christmas and practiced small talk in my bathroom. I reminded myself: “You’re just going to meet someone, not audition for ‘The Bachelor.’”

I got there first. The hostess smiled. “Table for two, sir?”

“Yeah, please. It’s the reservation under Evan.”

I got there early and took a seat at the bar, pretending to study the wine list. Every time the door opened, I glanced over, half-expecting Chloe.

“Table for two, sir?”

The bartender caught my eye. “Waiting for someone, brother?”

I nodded. “First date.”

He grinned. “And you met online?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only because you keep checking your phone every 30 seconds,” he said, chuckling as he wiped a glass.

Before I could answer, a voice rang out. “Evan?”

“Waiting for someone, brother?”

I spun around, and there she was: beautiful long hair, red dress, and a smile wide and bright. Instantly, it felt like the whole room noticed her.

I stood, almost knocking my stool over. “Hey, Chloe. You found the place okay?”

“It wasn’t hard,” she said, eyes sweeping over the restaurant. “Wow, this place is gorgeous.”

I shrugged, feeling my nerves flutter. “Credit goes to you. You chose it.”

She laughed, linking her arm through mine as the hostess approached. “That’s true. I do have a knack for nice places.”

“Hey, Chloe. You found the place okay?”

We followed the hostess, weaving between tables, Chloe’s heels clicking confidently. At our table, she sat first, glancing around like she was memorizing every detail.

“Nice place, right? They have lobster! I adore lobster. I hope you’re not allergic, Evan,” she teased.

“No allergies,” I replied. “But I do get mild menu anxiety.”

She grinned. “Trust me, you’ll love it here.”

A waitress appeared. Maya, her nametag read. She handed us menus. Chloe barely glanced at hers.

“I know what I want,” Chloe said. “I’ll have the lobster. With the butter sauce, please. Extra on the side, too.”

“They have lobster! I adore lobster.”

Maya nodded, scribbling it down. “Excellent choice. And you, sir?”

“Uh, the salmon, please,” I said. “And water’s fine.”

Chloe leaned back, folding her hands. “So, this is your first Tinder date?”

“Not my first, but it’s my first in a while,” I admitted. “What about you?”

She shrugged. “A few. But most guys are too nervous. Or too cheap.” She smirked. “But you seem relaxed. I like that.”

I laughed nervously. “I’m trying my best. I was practicing small talk earlier.”