So I was excited last night to make the trek down to Toledo, Ohio for a date with a cute boy I'd met online (Gay.com). We had been talking on the phone for a few weeks, and had been having some pretty great conversations. He seemed like a nice guy, successful job and all that. So he planned for us to hit up the Toledo Museum of Art (which is really, quite amazing) for their Friday night wine tasting at the Glass Pavilion, where they have free glass blowing demonstrations for visitors daily. I went last term with Maxime and was awed by the museum's wonderful collection -- and their free admission.

But the date started to go south fairly quickly. When we arrived at the Glass Pavilion, he ran into a friend of his, and began chatting with him without looking at or engaging me. Totally ignored. Ouch. That was pretty gross, and I knew in that moment that this wasn't going anywhere. But I trudged forward, determined to still enjoy the night however possible. The Sake tasting at the museum that night was, indeed, quite fun. I don't get to live this kind of yuppie life in Ann Arbor, where me and my friends are generally far too broke to venture out to such places.

When the time came to pay for "Sake to Me," I of course offered my $20 bill out of my pocket. It's just what one does, right? Before coming down, I had explained to him that I was extremely broke this month, and he had explained to me that he was raking in pretty darn good dough. He had done more than allude to me that he'd be paying for the evening. But he didn't argue when I handed him the money. He just took it. My heart sank a bit in that moment -- that was my drinking "fun" money for the rest of the weekend. But I didn't say anything. I could manage to get by this week without it.

Then onwards to dinner. He had planned to take me to this fancy Japanese place near his apartment, which was indeed pretty tasty. I had some Tuna Nigiri -- it felt terribly luxurious -- and a mixed seafood teriyaki plate, which was so-so. The conversation was generally good. Whatever. I mean I think we both knew at this point that we probably weren't interested in each other. But we made the most of it. But then the bill came. He picks up the tab, and I of course reach into my pocket, which is the moment when I expected him to protest. But not protestation came. I dug around, pulled out my credit card, and handed it over. Still no protestation. Fuck. Me. I couldn't afford this dinner. I mean, there's no way in HELL I could afford this dinner. This was the equivalent of a week's worth of food for my budget right now in graduate school.

The cards were taken away, and he asked the waiter to split the tab. I almost cried. What to do? He had never formally promised me to pay for the evening. But he knew I was fucking broke this month, living on summer funds that I received back in April until my first GSI paycheck arrived late this month. He had planned the evening, choosing the restaurant according to his own economic sensibilities. He knew I couldn't afford these things. Or did he? In retrospect, perhaps that this was just another night out for him. Maybe -- to him -- It wasn't all that expensive or luxurious. It was just that Japanese place that was a few doors down from his apartment, and a trip to the free art museum. But -- of course -- to me, it was a whole LOT of money.

Perhaps I could feel better about this situation if we really hit it off -- if he was an incredible guy and I was just so enamored with the evening. But it was a total bust. So now I feel like I'm out several gallons of gas, a potential Friday night with my friends, and a week's worth of food-money.

This seems to me to be a problem experienced by many couples where each partner is from a different class background. What's cheap to you, is outrageously expensive to me. It wrecks havoc on relationships.

Well, at leasmot there's no relationship to wreck havoc on for me. Ramen noodles, here I come!