Dating is a chore. It’s been a chore since I reached my 30s and couldn’t be bothered with meeting people. But I was lonely, so I downloaded a dating app.

When I first met Brad on the dating app, his profile was everything you’d expect from a guy who seemed to have everything together.

“It’s not like I have anything to lose,” I said.

I looked through his profile carefully, trying to find something that seemed odd or suspicious. But there wasn’t anything. Brad just had a charming smile, and judging from his bio, he had a sophisticated taste in food. But beneath that, there was a sprinkle of arrogance that I found oddly attractive.

“Why do you like the arrogant ones, Savannah?” I asked myself as I messaged Brad.

A few messages later, I learned that he was the kind of guy who knew his way around fancy restaurants, so when he suggested one for our first date, I figured I was in for a treat.

“If not a good date, then some good food,” I said to myself as I did my makeup before meeting him.

I was a bit nervous, but at the same time, I was ready for something new. And even if the date was a disaster, at least I’d have something to tell my girlfriends about when we met for our weekly brunch date.

As we sat down at this trendy, upscale place, I couldn’t help but notice how at ease he was. Brad breezed through the menu like he’d been there a hundred times before, not even bothering to glance at the prices. Meanwhile, I picked something modest, trying to play it cool.

It was our first date, and I didn’t want to come off as high-maintenance or snobby by ordering the most expensive meal or drinks.

“So, what do you do for fun?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something other than the ridiculously priced wine list.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the menu. “Travel, fine dining, a bit of golf when I can, but that depends on my mood, really.”

I nodded, not really buying into his story. Brad didn’t seem like he was the golf type, but he did seem like the type who came from old money. When he finally looked up, flashing me his practiced smile, it actually made my heart skip a beat.

“And you?” he asked, trying to feign interest.

“I’m more into simple things,” I said with a smile. “Books, a good movie night with buttery popcorn, and sometimes I really look forward to some hiking when I need to clear my head.”

“Books, huh?” he asked, his tone light, but I could tell that he was only half-listening. “What do you like to read then?”

“Mostly fiction,” I said, hoping to catch his attention and make something memorable of this night. “I’m a big fan of mysteries.”

“Mysteries? Nice!” he said, already back to nibbling from the bowl of olives on the table. “You’ll have to give me a recommendation sometime.”

I forced a smile, feeling my energy drain already. But I was determined to make the most of the evening. Maybe he was just nervous or something.

But as the night went on, it became clear that Brad’s main interest was in the food, not me.

“Can I take your orders?” a waitress asked.

Brad ordered a gourmet burger with all the trimmings, including a side order of onion rings and three types of fries.

Honestly, who needed to eat normal fries, sweet potato fries, and zucchini fries?

I ordered myself a poke bowl and a lemonade, hoping that the evening would just fly by instead of dragging on. Trying to get anything out of Brad was just draining.

When the waitress brought the check, Brad gave me a charming smile.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, standing up and giving me a big smile. “I just need to use the restroom.”

“Sure,” I replied, not thinking anything of it.

I watched him walk away, still a little caught up with his smile. I swayed to the upbeat music playing overhead and waited for Brad. But as the minutes ticked on, I started to feel uneasy. Five minutes turned into ten, and the longer I waited, the more ridiculous the situation began to feel.

Eventually, I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text:

Is everything okay?

But there was no response.

“Are you sure you don’t want any dessert?” the waitress asked as she reappeared. “The salted caramel ice cream and waffles seem to be a big hit tonight.”

“No, I’m good, thank you!” I replied. “I’m just waiting for my date to come back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, looking at me with pity. “But I believe he left. I thought you were just contemplating dessert and that’s why you were waiting to pay the bill.”

I stared at her for a moment, my mouth actually opening and closing like a fish out of water. Brad had ditched me?

With a bill! A bill that covered his meal, which included some of the most expensive things on the menu.

Who does that?

“I’m sorry,” the waitress said. “I can give you a few minutes, if you’d like? Or I could get you another drink?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll pay the bill now,” I said. “Card machine, please.”

I paid the bill and tipped her generously. As I left the restaurant, my anger quickly gave way to humor. The whole situation was so absurd that I couldn’t help but find it funny.

“You sure know how to pick them, Sav,” my friend Cleo said when I called to tell her everything.

“Well, I just wanted to put myself out there,” I laughed. “And anyway, I won’t be seeing him again.”

“No,” Cleo laughed. “I think you should do exactly that. See him again and have some fun with it. Poor Brad is going to think that you’re really into him when you reach out. Also, the circus is in town. I’ll speak to you later!”

I wondered why Cleo mentioned the circus; it was such a random thing to do. But then, I decided that I would have a little fun with Brad.

The next day, I texted Brad as if nothing had happened, keeping the tone light and breezy.

Hey, I had a great time last night! We should do it again sometime!

His reply came quickly, and I could almost imagine the smug smile plastered on his face as he replied.

Yeah, sure! When are you free?

Of course, he thought that he had gotten away with it. To him, I was probably a desperate girl who would pay for all our meals in the future.

How about something special? I’ll book you a car to a surprise location. My treat!

And like any fool, he took the bait.

The day of our second “date” arrived, and I sat on my couch with a face mask on. I arranged for the car to pick Brad up directly from his apartment. It had been too easy since he gave me his address the moment I said that I’d book a car.

I’m in the car, Sav. I’ll be with you soon!

I didn’t bother to reply. I filed my nails and listened to music, waiting for his next text.

I’m here. Where are you?

Surprise! Enjoy the circus!

What the heck? Why would you do this? Are you seriously not coming?

Oh, didn’t I mention? The circus is in town, Brad! Check it out; it’s where you belong with your disappearing acts.

There was a long pause before his next text came through.

Very funny. I’m leaving. You owe me for this car, Savannah. The driver’s fee is ridiculous.

You want me to pay for driving you to work?

I’m blocking you. You have problems, Savannah.

I burst out laughing. Well, that’s what you get when you try to find a partner on a dating app. I put my phone down and continued my solo pamper party.

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you.

My Boyfriend Demanded That I Give Him My Card to Pay Our Restaurant Bill

When Lisa earns her much-deserved promotion, she wants to go out and celebrate with her boyfriend, Troy. At the restaurant, Lisa learns that Troy just wants to put on a façade and be the ‘man’—disrespecting her and her hard-earned role. But when he gives his number to a waitress, things take a turn, causing Lisa to embarrass Troy and walk out of their relationship.

It was meant to be a night of pure celebration. After six months at my new job, I had finally earned a significant promotion and was eager to share the joy with Troy, my boyfriend.

He suggested the new upscale restaurant in town, famous for its ambiance and gourmet menu.

“Let’s just get dressed and go out, Lisa,” he said. “We don’t do this very often, so let’s make the most of it.”

I had to agree; we rarely did this—we rarely decided to go out and indulge in anything.

“Fine,” I agreed. “A night out is exactly what we need.”

And I believed that we needed it. Mainly because, as much as I wanted to believe that Troy and I were supposed to last forever, I had begun to see some cracks in our relationship. Something just felt different.

I was happy in my job, but Troy wasn’t happy in his.

“I do so much, but nobody bothers to recognize me,” he said grimly one evening when he came over for salsa night.

Troy sat on the couch and dug his chips into the salsa and guacamole, complaining about work the entire evening.

It was because of his moods regarding work that I didn’t tell him anything good about my job.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.