When the waiter asked for my order at our anniversary dinner, my husband said, “She’s not eating. She didn’t contribute to the bill. I’ll have water.” I said it again to the confused waiter while my husband, Paul, handed my menu back without letting me look at it.
We were at the steakhouse he’d picked for our tenth anniversary, and he’d made reservations without telling me there would be conditions attached.
The waiter stood there awkwardly, holding his pad.
“Ma’am, would you like to see the menu?”
Paul answered for me.
“She’s fine. I’ll have the ribeye, medium rare, with a loaded potato.”
He ordered a hundred-dollar meal while telling me I couldn’t eat.
“Sir, is the lady not dining?”
The waiter looked concerned. Paul smiled like this was normal.
“She didn’t bring any money, so she doesn’t get to order.
That’s how restaurants work, right? You pay, you eat.”
He said it loud enough for nearby tables to hear. An older couple looked over, shocked.
“Paul, please.
It’s our anniversary.”
He laughed and showed the waiter his phone.
“Look at our bank accounts. Hers has $14. Mine has 12,000.”
He’d separated our finances six months ago without discussing it.
“She wants to be independent, so she can independently pay for her own meals.”
The waiter shifted, uncomfortable.
“I could bring some bread for the table.”
Paul shook his head.
“Bread is for customers.
She’s just sitting here.”
Then he turned to me, like he was doing me a favor.
“You should have thought about dinner before you quit your job.”
I’d been laid off, not quit. But Paul had been telling everyone I chose to be unemployed.
“I was laid off, Paul. The company downsized.”
He waved his hand, dismissive.
“Successful people don’t get laid off.
You weren’t valuable enough to keep.”
The couple next to us was openly staring now. The woman looked horrified. Paul noticed and spoke louder, as if volume could make him right.
“I’m teaching her about consequences.
No contribution means no consumption.”
He pulled out cash and fanned it on the table.
“See this? This is what work looks like.”
The waiter tried again.
“Perhaps a small salad?”
Paul grabbed the money back.
“Did you not understand? She has no money means she gets no food.
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