When my best friend Mia begged me to let her set me up, I agreed just to end another week of her “trust me” speeches. Blind dates weren’t my thing, but she promised Eric was polite, thoughtful, and “old-school romantic.” To my surprise, he actually was.

He arrived early, brought roses, held the door, and even gave me a small engraved keychain. At dinner, he listened, asked real questions, and seemed sincere. I left thinking maybe decent men weren’t extinct after all.

The next morning, that feeling vanished. I opened my email and froze. Eric had sent me an itemized invoice. It listed dinner, flowers that “require reciprocation,” the keychain “repayable via coffee date,” and even “emotional labor.” At the bottom was a warning involving Chris, Mia’s boyfriend. This wasn’t cute — it was manipulative.

I sent it to Mia. She replied instantly: “He’s unhinged. Block him. Do. Not. Reply.” Chris took it further, sending Eric a fake invoice from “Karma & Co.” with charges like public embarrassment and the final line: “Failure to comply will result in permanent reputation damage.”

Eric exploded, saying we “couldn’t take a joke,” that the “invoice was symbolic,” and that I’d “missed out on a great guy.” I replied with a thumbs-up emoji and blocked him.

Now, when people ask about my worst date, I say it without hesitation: “The guy who sent me an invoice.” It’s a reminder that kindness doesn’t come with a price tag — and self-respect doesn’t issue refunds.