Tag Archives: Metro

Why men should NEVER pay for the first date

2 Dec

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This article appeared in Metro and you would think by now my anger towards feminist hypocrisy would have abated, given the sheer volume of it, but alas, it has not. This article really pisses me off, because it paints women as such pathetic, rapacious, grasping whores and if anyone wants to know why some men have such a low opinion of women, you need look no further than Yvette Caster. Let’s look at this nasty little piece of work in detail. Yvette in italics.


I have something to admit.


Bitch please. Get ready for some butthurt.


Despite being a feminist and despite being more than capable of affording my own dinner, I still want a man to pay for me on dates.


Isn’t that nice. It’s good to want things. Let’s see if you’re worth it.


The first time I realised this was during a date in Islington.


Oh Islington. Posh bitch, are you? How shocking!


We’d been chatting on Match.com when he asked me out to lunch.

He asked you out to lunch or he asked you to meet for coffee? Your story is falling apart already luv.


At first it seemed perfect – there he was, waiting for me at the Tube turnstiles, chatting as if we were old friends then leading me to a lovely book shop/café.

He was waiting and he led you to a café? I’ll bet you thought that was perfect. Why, it’s almost like you’re a Princess or something!


The barista asked us both what we wanted.

She didn’t assume he would order for you? How sexist of her to treat you as equals!


He replied quickly ‘coffee’ and paid for his. I had to buy my own chamomile tea.

The bastard! You had to pay for your own tea? Why didn’t you pay for his coffee? Just curious.


No, I did not reply to his subsequent emails.




Look. I can afford my own tea. But, as one male friend later put it ‘if he can’t be bothered to do that he can’t be that bothered about you.’

And if you can’t be bothered to pay for your own tea, that’s a pretty good indication you can’t be bothered about him, either, unless it involves cash flowing in your direction. Very noble *cough* whore *cough*.


Paying for a women on a date has nothing to do with feminism.

Of course not. Paying your own way would indicate you are a mature, independent, self-sufficient adult capable of taking care of yourself and that has nothing to with feminism which is about women being mature, independent, self-sufficient adults capable of taking care of themselves.




To me, it’s a way for a man to show, very clearly, that he likes you. Enough to try to impress you. Enough to make some effort.

Well I hope you plan on blowing him afterwards or at least giving him a handjob because if you have the right to demand money from a man as his way of “impressing you” or showing that he “likes you”, surely he has the right to demand sex from you for the exact same reasons? It’s the age old transaction, right? You take his cash, he takes your body. Very, very progressive of you. But wait, let me guess – that’s not the deal you want is it? You want to take his money and give nothing in return. How gracious. Who could refuse?


On a bigger scale, it’s a way for a man to prove he will be a good boyfriend – thoughtful, kind, generous and supportive.

Yeah, and an impromptu blowie out in the back lane is a way for you to prove that you will be a good girlfriend – thoughtful, kind, generous and supportive. On your knees, toots! Turnabout is fair play, no?


Of course relationships are not one-way streets. Many women earn more than their partners and end up being the ones supporting their family financially in the long-run.

Can you say lip-service? You get his money, he gets jack-shit. That street? She’s one-way!


But that initial gesture of paying for a simple dinner, a lunch or a tea signals an intention to support you, as well as showing that they come from a good family that values manners.

Why the fuck should he support you? What entitles you to a man’s support from day fucking one? I’m not saying men and women supporting each other is bad, but it’s not something you are owed. It’s something you negotiate over a long relationship. You begin as equals which means pay for your own fucking tea and stop acting like such an entitled, whiny little bitch.


In short, it says ‘I like you and I’d like to look after you.’

Look after yourself. Prove you are an adult. Then maybe another adult might be interested in having a relationship with you and not your inner four year old sulky Princess.




Relationships are about mutual support.

Indeed they are, and where exactly have you shown a single inclination to support him? You had a tantrum over buying your own tea!


Sometimes we are so proud of ourselves and our hard-won independence I think we forget that.

You certainly appear to have done so.


Only a total relationship novice would argue that people don’t need support from their partner sometimes – emotional, mental and, yes, sometimes financial. And, of course, they give it back in return.

It is 100% sexist bullshit feminist hypocrisy for you to demand the man show support first, and in the form of cold hard cash. Gee, I wonder why men think women are gold-digging whores with people like you around?


This emphasis on going Dutch from the start makes my heart sink.

Not mine. Going Dutch is just another word for a world in which men and women are equals and since I am not a feminist, I actually think that looks like a pretty wonderful world.  But leave it to a feminist to scream out the dictionary definition of feminism and then reject the actual practice of equality.


How exactly is a man supposed to sweep you off your feet if he can’t buy you dinner and roses any more?

Stand on your feet, woman, so a man can respect your strength, confidence, ability and resilience. Without those qualities, you are not an adult. You are a child.


Of course, if you’re simply looking for sex, not a partner, why are you bothering with dinner at all?

Of course, if you’re simply looking for cash, not a partner, why are bothering with dinner at all?


There are enough hook up websites around to make meeting up for drinks (who cares who pays?) then ‘fun’ absurdly easy.

Why not just give him your bank account, ask him to deposit the cost of dinner/tea/a movie and be on your merry little way?


One final note – to those men complaining about how much dating is costing them in London I say three things.

How about we give that advice to all the people dating in London? Remember the dictionary? That whole equality thing? Ring a bell at all in your vacuous, vacant little brain?


  1. It doesn’t take much research to find nice restaurants or coffee shops to suit your budget.

So find one you can afford and ask him out for a change. Pay for yourself. Pay for him, too.


  1. Be more discerning in the number of women you ask out. If you don’t like her enough to buy her dinner you don’t like her enough to be her boyfriend.

Be more discerning in the kinds of people you ask out. If they are only in it for the money, place the trash on the curb and walk away.


  1. If women, on our still unequal wages, can afford to buy nice outfits, make up, shoes, hair dos and the cost of prebooking a taxi in case you turn out to be a sex pest, then you can afford to buy us dinner.

If a woman can’t afford dinner but is still spending money on clothes, make up, shoes, hair and being chauffeured around, run the other direction because this woman is a moron who will ruin you financially, emotionally and physically. If a woman demands you pay for her in order to enjoy the great pleasures of her narcissism, petulance and immaturity, she will demand that forever.


These women do not grow up. They stay five years old forever. My advice to men is carry a sippy cup and a bag of Cheerios. If she demands you pay for her, hand her the juice and cereal and tell her to enjoy her childhood.



Then go find a real woman who knows what it means to be an adult and how to stand on her own because she understands that relationships really are mutual and sometimes you will need to lean on her. You can’t lean on someone who wants to be swept off her feet.




You’ll both just end up broken on the ground.


Lots of love,





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