The Price of Friendship
I was furious, but I calmly responded:
“Oh, I wasn’t aware we were splitting the bill like that. I assumed this was an invitation.”
A few minutes passed before my phone vibrated again.
Colleague: “Oh! Sorry for the confusion. We all agreed to split it evenly.”
I clenched my jaw. At no point had anyone mentioned this arrangement. If I had known, I wouldn’t have ordered the cheapest entrée on the menu while others indulged in bottles of wine and extravagant seafood platters.
Taking a deep breath, I replied:
“I understand, but my husband and I only had one entrée each and no drinks. We didn’t realize we’d be splitting everything.”
Another pause. Then:
Colleague: “It’s just easier this way. Hope you don’t mind!”
Easier? For whom? Certainly not for me, staring at a $190 charge for a meal that barely cost us $50. My husband, sensing my frustration, peered over my shoulder.
“What are you going to say?” he asked.
“The truth,” I muttered, typing:
“I’d prefer to cover just what we ordered. Our total comes to $50 before tip. I’ll send that over.”
A few moments later, my colleague responded.
Colleague: “Hmmm… Well, everyone already paid their share this way, so it’s kinda unfair if you don’t. Next time, I’ll let you know in advance! But for now, can you just send the full amount?”
My blood boiled. It wasn’t about the money—it was the principle. I wasn’t going to be guilt-tripped into paying for someone else’s steak and cocktails.
I took another deep breath and replied:
“I wasn’t given a choice in this arrangement, so I’m sticking to what I actually ordered. I’ll send $65 to cover tax and tip as well.”
I hit send before they could argue.
A few minutes later, my phone dinged again.
Colleague: “Wow. Okay. Didn’t expect this from you. Guess I’ll have to cover the difference.”
I rolled my eyes. My husband shook his head. “That’s manipulation if I’ve ever seen it.”
I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I sent the $65 and left it at that. The next morning at work, my colleague barely acknowledged me. I noticed them laughing with a few others, stealing glances in my direction.
Fine by me. If standing up for myself meant losing fake friends, I’d consider it money well saved.