I Went on a Date..
Stewart presents his credit card to pay for the meal | Source: Midjourney
She did. Twice more, with the same result. Stewart’s charm evaporated, replaced by a scowl. “This is ridiculous. Do you even know how to use the machine?” he snapped.
Other diners began to glance our way. I felt my face burn with embarrassment. “Stewart, maybe there’s a problem with the card. Do you have another one?” I suggested, trying to defuse the situation.
He glared at the waitress, then turned to me. “I swear this never happens. Someone must have screwed something up.”
The waitress inspecting Stewart’s declined card | Source: Pexels
Stewart looked at me sheepishly, “Do you have any cash on you?” he asked.
I was taken aback. “I told you I can’t afford this place. I don’t have this kind of money!”
Stewart’s eyes flashed with anger. “You think I planned this? Please, just pay the bill, Jess.”
I crossed my arms, standing firm. “No. I don’t have the money. This was your idea. And Adam’s, I should add. He said you had a good job and lived the high life.”
The tension at the table was thick. I could see the waitress shifting uncomfortably, the manager now standing by her side.
Stewart’s face twisted in frustration. “Unbelievable.”
Jess stands up angrily, refusing to pay the bill | Source: Midjourney
I felt angry and humiliated. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I muttered, needing a moment to collect myself.
Inside, I leaned against the sink, taking deep breaths. My phone buzzed in my purse. A text from Adam: “How’s it going?”
I stared at the screen, debating whether to reply. How could I explain this disaster? I splashed water on my face and tried to steady my nerves. I had to go back out there and face the music.
Jess reads the text message from her brother in the restroom | Source: Pexels
Stepping back into the dining area, I could see Stewart still arguing with the waitress. The manager was now involved, and the tension was palpable. I walked back to the table, my heart pounding.
“Everything alright now?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
Stewart turned to me, his anger barely contained. “They’re saying my card’s no good. Can you believe this?”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe we should just leave.”
“What? Just run out without paying the bill?” he muttered. “We can’t do that. Look at their security guard, he’ll catch us for sure. And this looks like the sort of place that’ll press charges to make an example of us.”
