When Leighton and her boyfriend, John, travel to his favorite steakhouse for his birthday dinner, she envisions a relaxing night out to celebrate him. However, as their evening comes to an end, feelings and emotions boil over when Leighton’s moral obligations prevent her from paying for John’s portion of the meal.
I hadn’t imagined his birthday to finish with him yelling at me in a parking lot, ᴀᴄᴄᴜsɪɴɢ me of spoiling his night. If I could go back and change something about that supper, I would. But the truth is that I adhered to a boundary that I established long before John and I began dating.
I didn’t believe I was wrong. But now I am not so sure.
Let me explain.
John and I have been dating for about a year now. Things were largely fine. He’s 30 and I’m 28, and we go through ups and downs just like everyone else.
“We’re just figuring it out, Leighton,” he would say to me after one of our fights. “We’ll get past it all.”
I always agreed since it looked like something special was developing between us. I liked that John wanted to settle down.
But one issue that has always been a source of contention between us is food. I have been a vegetarian since the age of eleven. I’m not one of those people that forces their opinions on others, but for me, it was all about morality and personal preference. It’s just part of who I am, and it has been for a long time.
Furthermore, I have stated unequivocally that I would not spend my money on meat. That is my bottom line.
John understands this.
In reality, he knew it from the beginning. When we first started dating, I told him the truth.
“I don’t have any issues with you eating meat, but I won’t pay for it. It’s just a personal rule.”
He laughed at the time, claiming that it was no great deal.
But, looking back, I see how frequently it became an issue. At first, it was minor issues like sharing the cost when we went out to eat. Sometimes he’d order a vegetarian meal, and I’d gladly cover both of us.
Other times, he’d get something meaty, and I’d pay for my portion, expecting him to cover his own.
It was reasonable, or so I thought.
But John did not seem to think so.
“It’s just food, Leighton. Jeez. You’re fussing over this? You’re not going to change the world by not buying a burger. Gosh.”
And that was his response every time I conveyed my point of view or my point of view to him.
I’d shrug it off, not wanting to dispute over something I was so passionate about. I’ll admit that it annoyed me. I mean, this man claimed to love me, but he couldn’t understand me. And that was frustrating.
Still, yelling my viewpoint was not how I handled things. So, I let it go.
Then came his birthday. And that’s when everything really came apart.
We had been discussing John’s birthday for weeks. I wanted to have a lavish meal at home, primarily so that I could cater to myself. However, the prospect of cooking meat was unpleasant.
“I don’t want to have something at home, Leigh,” John said. “Then we’d have to entertain people. Let’s just do dinner together. Just the two of us.”
“Fine,” I agreed, thinking that it was the easier of the two options anyway.
However, when John mentioned where he planned to go, I cringed entirely.
A steakhouse. He wanted to visit a steakhouse.
Later, when the bill arrived, John didn’t hesitate. He slid it over the table, grinning.
“So, you’ve got this, right, Leigh?” he said.
I’d only been there once, and it was a nightmare for me. Except for two salads and baked potatoes, there wasn’t much on the menu that wasn’t meat-based.
But it was John’s birthday, and I wanted to show my support for him.
The night started off well, perhaps better than I had expected.
John picked me up and brought me inside for a quick glass of champagne before we headed to the steakhouse.
“Happy birthday, darling,” I said, handing him his present, a new pair of stylish sneakers that he had been eyeing for a long time.
To be honest, it did put a strain on my monthly budget, and as a junior copywriter, I wasn’t compensated as well as I could have been. But it was John’s birthday, so I thought he deserved some additional attention.
That is why I got dressed up and applied my favorite perfume. I desired perfection in all aspects.
When we arrived at the steakhouse, we sat at a small table in the corner, attempting to make things as romantic as possible for a steakhouse.
John appeared cheerful. He smiled broadly and kept reaching for my hand.
I requested a Greek salad and a baked potato, and he went all out. Again, it was his birthday, so he deserved it, right?
He ordered the most expensive steak on the menu, a bottle of wine for us to share, and a few sides. I said nothing when he ordered the steak, despite knowing what was coming.
I wasn’t sure why, but part of me hoped he’d remember my rules. Maybe he’d chose something else… or at least be willing to pay for his own lunch.
After the dinner arrived, we ate in silence. John seemed to enjoy every mouthful of his steak, and he would occasionally pick up his phone to respond to birthday messages.
Later, when the bill arrived, John did not even hesitate. He grinned as he slid it over the table.
“So, you’ve got this, right, Leigh?” he said.
I stared at him, little surprised.
“Wait, what? You know how I feel about this…”
“It’s my birthday, Leighton,” he said with a flip of his hand, like that explained everything.
I grimaced and tried to remain cool.
“John, I told you before. I am not paying for meat. I’ll cover the wine, the sides, and my portion of the meal. But the steak? That’s on you.”
He blinked at me, the smile vanishing from his lips.
“You’re kidding, right? For goodness’ sake, it’s my birthday, Leighton.”
I exhaled. The tone of his speech indicated that this was not going to go well.
“I know that it’s your birthday. But that doesn’t change my rule, John. I’m not paying for the steak. And besides that, your birthday present has set me back with my budget.”
John’s visage hardened in an instant, and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed.
“So, you expect me to pay for my own birthday dinner? And you’re trying to make me feel bad for getting me a birthday present?”
“I didn’t expect you to order the most expensive thing on the menu and assume that I’d cover it,” I shot back.
John scoffed and shook his head.
“I didn’t budget for this. I thought you had it, Leighton. What a disappointment. Well, happy birthday to me, I guess.”
I leaned forward, attempting to keep my voice low. I didn’t want to cause a scene.
“John, I’ve told you before. I don’t spend money on meat. I’ll do the rest, but you have to cover the steak.”
I talked carefully and repeated my remarks, hoping it would sink in.
But John simply rolled his eyes and sat back, staring at me as if I had just told him the sky was green.
“It’s my birthday, Leighton,” he repeated. “My girlfriend is supposed to treat me.”
“I did treat you!” I snapped. “I got you a present, John! I’m paying for most of this meal. Honestly, what more do you want?”
At this moment, I could feel the other diners looking over at us. I attempted to lower my voice, but I was becoming agitated.
“And you cannot possibly expect me to just throw my principles out the window because it’s your birthday. What sort of woman would I be?”
He stood up abruptly, his chair skidding across the floor, and threw his napkin onto the table.
“You know what? I need a minute.”
Before I could react, John rushed out to the bathroom, leaving me sitting there like an idiot. My face burned from shame. Everyone was watching now.
I sat down for ten minutes, then twenty.
The waiter approached and refilled my water glass, his gaze fixed on the empty seat across from me.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” he asked me politely.
I shook my head.
“No, thank you… But could you get a card machine?”
He smiled and nodded.
“You’re so damn selfish, Leighton. You couldn’t just pay for one meal? On my birthday?”
When he brought it over, I paid for my dinner, wine, and sides. But not the steak.
“My boyfriend will pay for that,” I said. “We have a thing where he pays for his meat.”
The waiter gave me a perplexed look before nodding again.
“That’s not a problem,” he said.
After twenty minutes of waiting for John, I left. I expected he’d cool off and come find me.
As I walked out of the restaurant, I noticed him sitting on a bench near the parking lot, pouting.
“What the hell, John?” I asked. “You just left me in there!”
He looked up without apologizing.
“Did you pay?” he demanded.
“I paid for what I owed,” I said. “You need to go back for yours.”
“I’m not going back in there, Leighton,” he said.
“What? Why not?” I asked.
“Because they’ll recognize me. Don’t you see? It’s like a dine-and-dash situation. I walked out. They saw me. I’ll be banned from this place if I go back in.”
I couldn’t believe what I heard. I couldn’t believe the man’s rationale.
“You’re the one who walked out without paying, John. That’s on you.”
He glared at me, rage in his eyes.
“You’re so damn selfish, Leighton. You couldn’t just pay for one meal? On my birthday?”
I stared at him, stunned. “I’ve done nothing but pay for you tonight. But I told you from the beginning, I’m not paying for meat.”
“It’s not about the money, Leighton! It’s about you being so damn stubborn. Grow up!”
I could feel my hands shaking. I took a deep breath and forced myself to remain calm. ‘I’m not doing this. I’m leaving.’
I turned on my heels and began walking toward the car, expecting him to follow. The car was his, but I had the keys. When I turned around to check where he was, he was simply sitting there, sulking like a child who had not gotten his way.
I got into the car, closed the door, and drove home alone. Throughout the drive, I couldn’t stop thinking about the night. How had everything gone so wrong? Was I actually the bad guy here?
When I arrived home, I texted him.
Suck up your feelings and attitude and go pay the bill. This is your favorite steakhouse. Are you truly not going back there?
He did not answer for hours. And when he did, it was simply more charges against me.
I didn’t bother to respond. I knew he’d come over to retrieve his car soon. We could speak then.
What would you have done?