I initially resisted a blind date my friend Mia pushed relentlessly, convinced it would be awkward and pointless. Worn down, I finally agreed to “one dinner.” To my surprise, the date seemed ideal at first. Eric arrived with flowers, opened doors, gave me a small engraved gift, and made conversation feel effortless. I left thinking, maybe for once, this worked.

That optimism vanished the next morning when I received an email titled **“Invoice from Eric.”** Inside was an itemized bill charging me for dinner, flowers, a hug, “emotional labor,” “attentive listening,” and even “laughing at jokes,” ending with **“Payment required within 48 hours, or consequences may follow.”** What felt like kindness suddenly revealed itself as entitlement.

Shocked, I called Mia, who immediately said, **“Block him on everything.”** Her boyfriend Chris mocked the situation by sending back a fake invoice for Eric’s “audacity and sense of entitlement,” which only made Eric respond with frantic messages before I blocked him completely.

The incident became dark humor among friends, but it carried a clear lesson. What looked like generosity was actually transactional. As I realized, **“kindness is not a currency,”** and real affection doesn’t come with strings or receipts.

Looking back, the experience reinforced boundaries and self-respect. The takeaway was simple and lasting: **“True kindness, attention, and care are never commodities.”**