Take Her Ass to The BK, OK,. Maybe Not

I caught up with Belizeanchica last night. I hadn't talked to her in a good month or so (probably more), so we needed to play a little bit of catch up.

Not five minutes into the call she tells me that she had a date with an African medical student earlier than evening.

"He took me to this fancy restaurant and I got a $40 steak," she said.

"WTF?" is all that ran through my head.

This was a first date. Let me calculate this shit out for you. The sides were mostly likely a la carte so you can throw in another $10 for sides. Another $10 for drinks. Then don't forget to add the same total for him to be on the safe side.

Who in the hell - aside from doctors, lawyers and professional athletes - blows $120 on a first fucking date?

"You should have thrown your panties at him," I said to her.

"I wasn't gonna fuck him."

"I didn't say you need to fuck him. You should have gave him your draws, though. A $40 steak (or $120 first date) deserves a consolation prize."

She laughed hysterically because she understood me.

I mean really, who in their right or wrong mind spends that kind of money on a woman he doesn't know? That is a clean ass pair of Kenneth Coles or a three-year supply of Black Code or a couple of nice button downs that will last you a few years.

A one-hour $120 first date on the other end might nourish you for the next day, but you're not even guaranteed a phone call. Hell, she might even change her number if she thinks you might go stalker on that ass.

I got into an argument with Wildcat-Squared about this and concluded that there should be a law drawn up that if a man spends $120 on a first date his newfound woman friend should be obligated to a second and third date.

Now, if you take a "Hoe to Burger King," and by Hoe I hope you know what I mean, that's on you. But if you're chilling out at your local Melting Pot on date No. 1, you need something in return.

Maybe not ass. But something. A second date. Two weeks worth of conversation with this woman. A pair of "consolation prize." A massage. Some reciporication.

Moral of the story: Do not spend $120 on first date with a woman you do not know. It's dumb.