You asked me out, I agreed. You decided that we should go to a restaurant and so that's where we went. I'd have been just as happy to have a coffee. At the end of the evening I told you in the most polite way that I simply wasn't interested in seeing you again, except as maybe friends and then you sulk like the pathetic beta you are and gripe about the $30 you spent on my dinner. Thirty fucking dollars! If you're that hard up for cash maybe you shouldn't be inviting people out to dinner, but it certainly doesn't entitle you to get in my pants. You try and play the 'nice guy' game but then you turn around and think you can buy me? I ain't for sale, bub. And for the record, no respectable woman is going to want to date a guy who makes $13 an hour at some dead end job. —You should be embarrassed of yourself