Jack used to be sweet. When he and Lora first dined at my restaurant, they split bills and shared laughs. But recently, things changed. Jack became flashy—ordering steaks, wine, and fancy appetizers—then pushing the check toward Lora, who barely ate and always paid. On Lora’s birthday, Jack outdid himself. He showed up with eight friends, declared, “It’s on me!”—and then waited for Lora to arrive, exhausted and clearly upset. As usual, he shoved the $827 bill at her.
She excused herself and disappeared into the restroom. I followed—and overheard her sobbing to her mom, “I can’t keep paying for everything. Jack expects it all.” I had enough.
