After hearing about the $700 date heard ’round the internet, I was initially going to do a forensic examination on each of the details about this situation; a deconstruction of all the indications that these people live much, much different lives than I do.
I was going to note how Dede Damati (the model who outed @realbenjo for running out on a $700 bill while he was out with her girls) said “...mind you, it was only $700” in her takedown of him. And, I’d then note how the words “It was only $700” — a reference to something being cheap (!!!) — would only come out of my mouth if I was talking about a new car or an all-expense paid trip to motherfucking Saturn.
I might have said something about how anyone agreeing to meet someone somewhere on a first date that expensive is very obviously either very thirsty — like, “just ate three entire packets of salt” levels of thirst — or very willing to show off how much money they want everyone to think they have. (Or both.) And also how a woman suggesting I take her on a date worth more than my first apartment’s monthly rent and one of my kidneys is a sign this aint a chick I need to be dating. (And is likely the mystery protagonist in at least two Drake verses.)
And maybe I’d say something about how sad @realbenjo’s Instagram page is. I still do not know what his real name is or what he does. But I do know his main contact address is an Outlook address and that if I tried to send an email to him, my email would get the gout.
Instead, I’m just going to leave everyone with one question:
What the fuck happens on a $700 date?