Dating should be about connection, not control. Unfortunately, my dinner companion missed that memo—but the unforgettable scene that followed ensured he’ll think twice before policing another woman’s plate.
From the moment Mark sat down, his true colors showed. Between bragging about his gym routine and meal-prepping habits, he eyed my truffle gnocchi with visible disapproval. “Food is fuel, not for enjoyment,” he declared, as if flavor was a character flaw.
The final straw came when he refused to let me see the dessert menu. “I like skinny women,” he announced to the waiter—and the entire dining section. That’s when my inner rebel took over.
Spotting two glamorous older women nearby, I ordered them three decadent desserts on my tab. When they waved me over, I left Mark mid-sentence. What followed was the best girls’ night I never planned. Between bites of panna cotta, Elaine and Loretta—a widow and divorcee with zero patience for controlling men—schooled me in the art of fearless living.
“Men like that?” Loretta scoffed. “We married them. Now we just laugh at them.” The whole restaurant joined in when Elaine added, “He looks like he’s never tasted joy—or chocolate.”
Mark’s humiliation was complete when I exited to applause, dessert in hand. The waiter later confessed it was the most satisfying shift of his career. As for me? I gained more than a full stomach—I reclaimed the right to enjoy my life, calories and all, without apology.
