My first Plentyoffish date:
He picks me up for dinner. Nicely dressed, nice car, nice manners. Says stuff about photos not doing me justice and all those other nice things a girl likes to hear. We go to a restaurant of my choosing. It ended up being a fabulous date. He was attentive, we had a great conversation, he even found a reason to slide into the booth next time me and kiss me before dessert.
So far so good. I’m starting to feel like I hit the jackpot.
Then the check came. As always, I asked, “Can I help you with that?”
He said, “Whew, I am glad you said that. If you didn’t, I would have had to leave your ass to pay the bill because I HATE girls who expect the man to pick up the tab.”
date me in the face 
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