Wendy and I went out to dinner with another couple on Friday, and when the bill came, the other guy took it.  He said, "I got it."  I gave him the "why are we even doing this?" face and said, "Let's split it."  He refused.  I insisted.  He refused again.  I conceded.  Insisting again would've been taking things too far, so I let him win his little game.  I couldn't understand why he didn't at least want to split the bill.  If anything, we should've paid for them.  They're poor.  They're saving for a wedding.  They're really not in a position to be buying people meals, even if it was at a cheap pizza place.  But what really gets me is that, without question, the next time we go out, our side of the table will absolutely be obligated to pay.  And more than likely, we'll go to some expensive Italian place, order seven bottles of imported wine and dine on the finest of seafood and filet mignon, and during the whole meal, I'll be hating everything you do and say, knowing I'll have to pay for the calories that enable you to exist in the first place. 

Bottom line:  Don't buy me dinner unless it's completely clear that I owe you nothing.  I hate feeling obligated. #money