Man Brings His Parents on Our First Date with an Outrageous Request – Here’s How I Turned the Tables

Man from Dating Site Brought His Parents on Our First Date with Their Ridiculous Demand – I Decided to Outplay Them

Who brings their parents to a first date? It was my beau from a dating app who did so. But what truly resonated with me was the list of OUTRAGEOUS DEMANDS that his parents brought with them. I was aware that I would have to outsmart them, but I would do so on my own terms.

Jacob and I immediately connected when we first met virtually on a dating website several months ago. The connection was genuine, the type that causes your pulse to skip a beat when you receive a new message notification. I began to believe that he was “the one,” but when we actually encountered each other, reality had a way of dismantling our meticulously crafted illusions.

This moment was the culmination of three months of late-night texts and hour-long video conversations. Jacob was not merely another match; he was distinctive.

He had captured my attention with a detailed comment about my profile photo taken at Comic-Con, while most men began with cheesy pickup lines or bland “hey” messages.

“Is that a handmade Scarlet Witch costume?” he had composed. “The detail work is incredible!”

Our conversations proceeded in a natural manner. He listened attentively when I discussed my aspirations to establish my own studio and my work as a graphic designer.

He shared my enthusiasm for true crime podcasts and was able to recite each episode of my preferred programs verbatim. Upon hearing about my sister’s struggle with melancholy, he disclosed his own experiences with anxiety.

His gentle brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he said, “I feel like I can tell you anything,” during one of our video calls. “I’ve never connected with someone like this before.”

“Neither do I,” I confessed, my face flushing. “Sometimes I worry this is too good to be true.”

He had chuckled at that time, as he ran his hand through his dark hair. I am eagerly anticipating our first encounter. Is it Friday at Coffee Beanz? 7 p.m.?

“It is a date!” “At last!” I was unable to contain my enthusiasm and chirped.

“See you on Friday!” He said as I hung up, blushing.

I dedicated the entire week to the selection of my attire, ultimately selecting a stunning dress that my best friend Sarah insisted would enhance my eyesight.

She had stated, “He will be unaware of the impact,” as she assisted me in styling my hair.

I was observed outside Coffee Beanz on Friday evening, meticulously adjusting my dress for the hundredth time. I observed couples savoring their meals through the window, as gentle candlelight danced across their features.

The fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh bread enveloped me as I pushed open the heavy wooden door, my hands slightly trembling. I warily scanned the area in an attempt to locate Jacob.

“Lia!” Please proceed to this location.

My practiced smile was frozen on my face as I turned toward Jacob’s familiar voice. He was seated there, but he was not alone.

A couple of older individuals sat beside him, their features lit up with joy. My heart, which had been brimming with enthusiasm throughout the day, plummeted to my stomach.

“Hey… um, hi, what’s going on?” I succeeded, despite my brain’s difficulty in comprehending the scene in front of me.

Jacob stood up, his bright smile remaining unaltered as if this were an entirely ordinary occurrence. “I am ecstatic to have the opportunity to meet you, Lia!” Linda and Patrick are my parents.

Linda, a petite woman with flawlessly coiffed gray hair and gold earrings that likely cost more than my monthly rent, offered me a practiced smile that did not extend to her eyes. Patrick, who was wearing a dress shirt that appeared to be too small for his stature, scarcely glanced up from his menu.

Linda touched the chair adjacent to her, not Jacob’s. “Sit down, girl,” she said. “While we wait for our appetizers, I have a few questions for you.”

I sank into the chair, still endeavoring to comprehend the circumstances of this ambush. The waiter presented me with water containers, and I couldn’t help but yearn for something more potent.

Linda extracted a clean sheet of paper from her designer handbag at that moment.

She cleared her throat and clicked her gold-plated pen. “Now then,” she said. “In order to enhance our understanding of you, I have composed a concise questionnaire.” I would like you to complete it.

The paper she had placed in front of me was scrutinized by my eyes, and each query was more difficult than the previous one.

1. What is your current annual income and five-year career projection?
2. Kindly provide a comprehensive list of all medical conditions, including any family history of genetic disorders.
3. How many romantic companions have you had, and what were the reasons for the termination of those relationships?
4. Do you own or lease your vehicle? What is your credit score?
5. Are you amenable to the execution of a prenuptial agreement?
6. Do you anticipate returning to the workforce following the birth of your children? If so, who will be responsible for the child’s care?
7. What is your perspective on cohabitating with one’s in-laws?
8. Are you prepared to host annual celebrations such as Thanksgiving and Christmas without anticipating any compensation from your partner?

The inquiries continued indefinitely, resembling a never-ending train carriage. My water glass abruptly ceased to flow midway to my mouth. “I’m sorry, but is this for real?”

Linda responded, “Of course it is, dear,” her tone insinuating that I was intentionally being obstinate. “Our family has specific standards that we must uphold.” It is imperative that any potential companions for Jacob are… appropriate.

I gazed at Jacob, anticipating his declaration that this was all a jest. However, he continued to sit, meticulously inspecting his napkin as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

I experienced a sudden internal jolt. Three months of cultivating this connection, exchanging hopes and apprehensions, only to be regarded as a job applicant? False. This necessitated an alternative methodology.

“Would you excuse me for just a moment?” I exuded a delightful smile. “Ladies’ room.”

Rather than proceeding to the restroom, I entered the convenience store adjacent to it. I returned five minutes later with my own notebook and pen.

“I have a few of my own,” I said, sitting down with renewed confidence. “Before I answer your questions.”

As I placed the paper containing my inquiries on the table, Linda’s perfectly plucked eyebrows abruptly arched in astonishment. She picked it up and began reading it aloud, her expression conveying the intensity of her wrath.

“Question one: At what point did you realize your son wasn’t capable of choosing his own partner?”

Patrick’s complexion became flushed. Finally, Jacob lifted his head from his napkin.

“Question two: What is the actual number of women who have successfully completed your interrogation process?” Or do the majority of individuals shriek in protest prior to the credit check?

“This is completely inappropriate!” Linda’s voice became increasingly elevated as she proceeded to read.

“Question three: Do you also inspect their teeth like show horses, or is that saved for the second date?”

“Question four: When Jacob moves out of your basement, will you be requiring his future wife to submit weekly progress reports?”

“Question five: Have you considered therapy for your control issues, or is that too personal a question?”

“That’s enough!” When Jacob struck the table with his hand, the silverware sprang into motion. “You have no right to disrespect my family like this!”

I crossed my arms and reclined back. “Oh, but they have every right to treat me like I’m applying for a position at the FBI?”

He protested, his voice trembling, that his parents were merely protecting him. “They want what’s best—”

“No, Jacob. It would be in your best interest to develop a strong sense of self and lead a life that is uniquely your own.

Linda and Patrick had already begun to gather their belongings, their features flushed with anger. Linda’s hands trembled as she reinserted the questionnaire into her bag.

She declared, “We are departing.” “Jacob, please. She is not the ideal match for you.

“Wait!” I shouted loudly enough to cause the tables in the vicinity to sway. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

A woman’s side view | Source: Midjourney

Then they paused. “WHAT??”

“Waiter, these people are trying to leave without paying their bill!” I made a loud announcement while waiving to the waiter. “Guess running out on checks is another proud family tradition!”

Silence had enveloped the restaurant. Linda’s palms trembled as she withdrew her credit card, nearly hurling it at the waiter. I rose from my seat and once more slickened my dress.

“Indeed, this has been quite enjoyable.” I will conceal my water. I positioned a five-dollar bill on the table and then turned to Jacob.

“I hope you are successful in locating an individual who satisfies the high standards of your family.” Nevertheless, it may be advantageous to investigate employment recruitment websites as opposed to dating applications. I have been informed that they conduct comprehensive background investigations and provide references.

My phone vibrated with a message from Jacob, “You did not have to be so cruel,” as I emerged into the chilly evening air. My parents were merely protecting me.

I responded by typing, “I am merely protecting my own interests, my mother’s son.” “Goodbye!”

Sarah contacted me later that evening to inquire about the date. She remained silent for a brief period after I had completed disclosing all of the information.

She eventually said, “You know what?” “I bet Linda has a spreadsheet ranking all of Jacob’s potential wives.”

We both erupted in laughter, and I felt the final vestige of my disappointment dissipate. Evaded a bullet? Without a doubt. I have never been more appreciative of a red flag that was concealed within a questionnaire.