I went on a first date with Mark, a guy I met on a dating app. His bio screamed “high-maintenance fitness bro,” but I figured I could keep up. What I didn’t expect was his obsession with control.From the moment we sat down at a fancy Italian restaurant, he lectured me about his 5 AM workouts, strict meal plans,

and how “food is fuel, not for pleasure.” When I dared to order truffle gnocchi, he raised an eyebrow and said, “You can tell a lot about a person’s self-respect by what’s on their plate.”I was already half-planning my exit when the dessert menus arrived. Before I could even touch mine, Mark reached across the table, shut it, and told the waiter, “She’ll pass. She’s had enough.”

Oh, really?With a polite smile, I turned to the server and ordered dessert—not for me, but for two fabulous older women nearby, dressed in sequins and clearly out for a good time. “Tiramisu, panna cotta, and an affogato—for them, on me.”Mark blinked. “Wait, what?”

I walked over to the women, who immediately pulled up a chair. We spent the rest of the evening laughing, sipping wine, and enjoying every last bite of dessert while Mark sat alone, poking at his plain grilled fish.Before I left, I made sure the whole restaurant heard: “If he flirts with you when I leave, just tell him you like chocolate.” The laughter that erupted was the sweetest sound of the night.Later, the server DM’d me: “Still thinking about that tiramisu moment. Legend behavior.” Honestly? Same.Moral of the story: If a man tries to control your plate, order extra dessert—one for you, one for karma.