My girlfriend and I have only been going out for about two months when my birthday rolls around. I don’t have any family left in the area, thus my tradition the last few years was to go to one of a few mid-range-but-good restaurants nearby and get a big, fat, steak. It’s outside my normal budget, but it’s my birthday, darnit! Also, out-of-state relatives send money. This year, obviously, my girlfriend comes out with me. Things start… poorly.
Me: “Should I go for the prime rib or the porterhouse?”
Girlfriend: “Excuse me?”
Me: “I mean, usually I go for the quality of the prime rib, but I’m kind of starving, so I might just want something giant.”
Girlfriend: “Uh, no.”
Me: “…What do you mean, no?”
Girlfriend: “What happened to our agreement that we were splitting everything evenly?”
Me: “On a NORMAL date, yeah, this is my birthday dinner, and I said earlier I’m using the money my family sent.”
Girlfriend: “We can put that to other things.”
Me: “Well, why don’t YOU get something bigger, then?”
Girlfriend: “I don’t WANT something bigger!”
Me: “Why are you being like this?”
Girlfriend: “We had an AGREEMENT, as to how we’re spending OUR money!”
This goes back and forth to the point that I’m brow-beaten and upset to the verge of tears. I finally settled for a “sizzling fajita platter” because they have a special going on, and it’s inside the budget set by her simple chicken alfredo. The food’s still tasty, and the cheesy mashed potatoes are a surprise bonus, but I’m miserable throughout the whole meal because of how she talked down to me like a child.
The meal gets done, and we look at the dessert menu, and my jaw hits the floor. Sticky toffee pudding! While it’s not my favorite, you can NEVER find it around here, so I always order it when I can. As for my girlfriend, it IS her favorite, so we get two. Dinner saved! At least until she’s already finished hers while I’m less than halfway through mine.
Girlfriend: “Oh, that was so good.”
Me: “Yeah, it definitely is.”
Girlfriend: “Hey, give me yours!”
Me: “What?”
Girlfriend: “I enjoyed mine so much, you should share yours with me!”
Me: “But… But…”
I’m trying extremely hard not to start bawling out loud in the middle of the restaurant. She folds her arms and scowls at me.
Girlfriend: “Why are you being greedy?”
Me: “My birthday…”
Girlfriend: *Slaps the table.* “ANSWER ME!”
Welp, that did it. I start crying out loud. I also start furiously yelling in her face.
Me: “I HAVE ONE GOD-D*** DAY OUT OF THE ENTIRE YEAR I DO ANYTHING SPECIAL FOR MYSELF, PAID FOR BY OTHER PEOPLE, AND INSTEAD OF JOINING ME YOU INSULT ME AND HARASS ME UNTIL I’M F****** CRYING! BUT GOD FORBID I DO THAT OUT LOUD BECAUSE IT MIGHT UPSET YOU, AND THEN YOU CAN’T EVEN LET ME ENJOY MY OWN D*** BIRTHDAY DESSERT AFTER ALREADY EATING YOURS!? HOW IS THAT EVEN!? HOW IS THAT FAIR OR CARING OR COMPASSIONATE IN ANY WAY?!?
I throw my fork on the table, pick up the plate, storm over to a server stand. Yes, they heard and saw, obviously. I somehow ask for the check and a to-go box in one breath; I get it, tip them well, and go out to my car, and leave. No, I didn’t abandon her, she drove herself. She did text me on the way home, though.
Girlfriend: “I probably wouldn’t even have eaten the whole thing, I don’t know what the problem is.”
She gave me the best birthday present I had had in years: a gigantic red flag telling me to break up with her.
