Who’s paying for all this?

I developed blogstipation every time I tried to blog about gender and paying the way on dates. Today I told Martin I was afraid of sounding old (I kept wanting to start a sentence with “Well, back in my day . . .” Use a phrase like that and you’re only a blog away from “These crazy kids today . . .”). So when I told Martin I was trying to write about who pays on a date, he said it was simple — the person with the most money pays. Now why didn’t I think of that?

Really, what gave me writer’s block wasn’t puzzling over the question of who pays but that fear of sounding like an old fogey, or, in my case, an old biddy. I’m 50 years old and when I started dating, I don’t remember struggling over the check or feigning ignorance of the dirty exchange of money while my date paid the bill. I seem to recall taking turns. Or suggesting we take turns. Or asking which one of us was paying. Or at least offering to pay. Or some combination of the above. Although it could be that my imagination is smoothing the kinks out of long-ago, awkward first dates. In the late 70s, I had a blind date with a friend’s brother-in-law’s brother. He was cute and I thought we had a good time, despite the fact that I spewed beer in his face after he caught me off guard with a deadly funny remark. (Note to potential dates: I haven’t done that since then. I swear.) We never had a second date — he told my friend I was “too much of a ‘women’s libber.’” Oh, brother. I’ve always wondered if he didn’t want to see me again because I insulted him by trying to pay for our drinks or because he didn’t appreciate the beer shower.

So, is it possible in this day and age there are women who expect the man to always pick up the tab on a date? Yes, it is, according to a younger male friend of mine. Not only do his dates allow him to pick up the tab for dinner, buy the movie tickets, do all the driving around and pay for the drinks, he says he often gets a sense of entitlement from these women. He’s a good guy — generous and gentlemanly — so he’s not saying this out of resentment. He’s no cheapskate. If I were him, I think after financing a couple of dates, I’d tell these women to go find another teat.

Sure I understand the tradition behind the man paying the lady’s way but now that we’re well into the 21st century, the idea seems anachronistic. While women, unfortunately, still lag behind men salary-wise, we have an obligation to pay our fair share. If you are a woman who always lets your date pay, you’re just being cheap. Unless you’re dating a millionaire. And if you don’t make much money, at least pay for the less expensive outings like matinee movies or breakfasts at Waffle House.

During my online dating phase, when I’d meet a man for coffee, it seemed to be a given that he’d pay. I didn’t protest since it was just coffee and I didn’t want to appear ungracious. There was one guy I had dinner with a couple of times. He was a generous, sweet soul who cheerfully paid for our first dinner together. His reaction on the second date when I reached for the check was downright comical. He drew back like I’d pulled a gun on him. Basically, what he told me was the day he’d let me buy him dinner was the day they pried his billfold from his cold, dead fingers. I’m paraphrasing, of course. But I was surprised at his reaction and the reactions I’ve gotten from some other men when I’ve reached for the check.

Clearly, the man paying the tab continues to be the standard, regardless of age. But there are, more and more, enlightened wait staff who will diplomatically place the bill equidistant from both parties. But much more often, it’s crisply placed in front of the man.

I have a female friend my age who started dating someone new a couple of months ago. One day I asked her if she didn’t pick up the tab sometimes when she went to dinner with this new guy. No, she didn’t. Assuming she’d misunderstood my question, I asked whether she’d ever paid for dinner when she and he went out. Nope. Well, I asked, did you ever reach for the check and have him stop you? No. At that point, I dropped the subject. I wanted to ask her why but figured I’d interrogated her enough. But I have been wondering what planet she grew up on.