So I met this guy one Saturday night at Infernos Clapham, renowned for being a total meat market. His name was Pete, he was fairly cute and with a hot bod. We had a few cheeky snogs in the night, swapped numbers and went our separate ways.
He text during the week and we met in Farringdon for drinks. Pete is telling me all about his passion – TA (Territorial Army) AKA weekend warriors to everyone else who would take the mick like me…….I was slowly losing the will to live and then he asked me about my diet and fitness regime and whether I ate carbs after 6pm and what size clothes I wore! Jeepers. After stammering my way through his questions and feeling like I was being interrogated for being a fatty he then suggested we get a bite to eat.
We went to Carluccios and I made a quick visit to the ladies room. When I sat down at the table Pete said that he’d taken the liberty of ordering for me. Wow, controlling much? I was half expecting to be presented with a lettuce leaf and mung beans after our ‘no carbs in the evening’ chat earlier.
Pasta and garlic bread and a bottle of wine arrives on the table and I thought ok this isn’t so bad, the conversation had improved and the evening seemed to be looking up. The bill arrives and the waiter who was serving us was a friend of mine so he gave us a hefty discount. The bill sits untouched in the middle of the table, we were both looking at each other like some sort of Mexican stand off. Eventually after a painfully long silence, he says ‘Oh I’ll get this one shall I?’ And I thought, well yes you were the one that asked me for dinner! He opened the bill and the look of horror on his face was priceless. I thought crikey how much has this dinner cost? He paid and then made his way to the bathroom not before telling me that I can get us a couple of drinks after. I took a peak at the bill and it was 32 quid……wowzers, a real bank breaker! My waiter friend had chopped the bill in half practically!!
So Pete walked me to some uber funky but totally wanky bar in Farringdon as it was ‘my round’. He orders a couple of rounds of tequila shots and some cocktails for us both. We were both fairly well oiled by then and I ordered another round of the same. The bill comes to 70 quid……and its my round. What a cheek. He balks at a 32 quid dinner bill but I get lumbered with a 7o quid bar bill…..he must of thought he had the last laugh.
As it turns out it was me that had the last laugh, Pete had called and text repeatedly after our date but I wasn’t playing ball. I was far too busy committing carbocide at all hours to answer his calls
Tight arse daters……..what are your thoughts? What is the etiquette for paying on a first date? Email your stories at : email@example.com
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