The Takeout Takedown

At the five-star hotel where the blind date was set, leftover takeout was complimentary.

I liked their Australian lobster and Poule de Bresse en Vessie. I packed my own portion and even helped box up what my date hadn't finished.

Just as I picked up the bags to leave, he grabbed me with a dark look and demanded, "Jennifer, we agreed to split the bill. What gives you the right to take all the food?"

I explained that he wouldn't be able to finish it anyway, and if we didn't take it, it would just be thrown away.

He let out a cold laugh.

"I paid for that food. Even if I toss it, that's none of your concern. Looks to me like you've been waiting for a chance to take advantage. I didn't expect you to be this kind of person.

"I'd rather feed these leftovers to a dog than give them to you! And don't bother contacting me again. That petty, small-minded behavior of yours is disgusting."

I pressed my lips together, at a complete loss for words.

After all… this five-star hotel belonged to my family.

After his tirade, Mike McSally grabbed the bag of leftovers and walked off without a backward glance.

The lobby manager approached with a frown.

"Miss, what's going on with that man? Should I have security stop him?"

I watched his retreating figure and waved it off.

"Forget it. Let him go. Don't let him ruin the other guests' experience."

On the drive home, my phone buzzed nonstop.

When I opened it, every message was from Mike.

Mike: [Dinner tonight came to 1,800. We're splitting it—transfer me 900.]

Mike: [Also, the fruit platter and the two small side dishes the waiter brought… they were complimentary, but I got them by pulling some strings. Cash value is fifty. You should cover half of that too.]

Mike: [Total: 925 dollars. Transfer it.]

Reading those messages, I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

That fruit platter had clearly been sent over by the manager after catching my cue—yet in his version, it became something he'd "earned" with charm?

I transferred 1,000 directly, adding a note: [No need for change. Consider the rest a donation for feeding dogs.]

He accepted the money instantly. The next second, a notification popped up. He'd blocked me.

Before I could even put my phone down, a screenshot from my best friend came through.

It was Mike's social media post. The attached photo was a candid shot of my back as I carried the takeout bags—clearly taken without my knowledge.

The caption read: [Met a real piece of work on a blind date! Orders the most expensive dishes, then packs up everything she can't finish! We agreed to split the bill, but she even tried to take my leftovers!

[Seriously, what's wrong with girls these days? Are they that desperate? Frugality is a virtue, sure—but using it as an excuse to take advantage of men? That's just shameless. Guys, be careful when you go on blind dates. Run into a gold digger like this, and you're asking for trouble!]

The comments section was full of his friends chiming in.

[Man, Mike, you've got it rough. That wasn't a date—you were doing charity work.]

[You can tell at a glance she's never seen the world.]

[Probably never eaten at a five-star hotel in her life—wanted to pack it up and brag later!]

[People like this should be exposed! Make sure she can't show her face in the dating scene again!]

I was still scrolling through the comments when my Aunt Marian called.

The moment I picked up, she launched into a lecture.

"Jennifer, what on earth happened? Mike's mother just called me—she said you're the worst! She said you have no manners, that you eat like you've been starving your whole life, and that you're someone who likes taking advantage of others!

"I introduced Mike to you because he works at a major company—he's a promising prospect. But look at what you've done! You've completely offended him over a few boxes of leftovers!"