My Colleagues Always Made Me Split Bills Even Though I Didn’t Eat That Much, So I Found a Way to Put Them in Their Place When I started my new job, I was eager to fit in with my colleagues. I wanted to build relationships in this new environment, and the Friday lunch tradition was an easy way to do it. They seemed friendly and welcoming, so how could I say no? However, there was a significant issue: my colleagues were in a different financial league. While they were established in their careers, I was just starting mine, scraping by on an entry-level salary while juggling loans, bills, and rent. Every Friday, we would head to fancy restaurants where the prices escalated week after week. The first few times, I tried to brush it off. I ordered my usual salad or simple entrée, while two colleagues, Josh and Lisa, indulged in extravagant meat platters. Their $60 meals consistently overshadowed my $15 orders. When the bill arrived, they insisted we split it evenly, which felt increasingly unfair. I couldn’t help but feel resentful as I watched my budget dwindle. I contemplated bringing it up, but each time I gathered the courage, I hesitated. They laughed and casually dropped their credit cards on the table, seemingly oblivious to my struggle. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind: “Stand your ground, Syd.” But I didn’t want to rock the boat as the new person. One fateful Friday, after yet another costly meal, I finally spoke up. “Hey, guys, maybe we could start doing separate bills? I’m not really eating as much.” Josh laughed dismissively. “Come on, Sydney. It’s easier this way.” Lisa chimed in with a smirk, brushing my concerns aside. I felt a wave of frustration; my perspective didn’t seem to matter. Determined to make a change, I decided to play their game but on my own terms. The next week, instead of my usual salad, I ordered two appetizers. They dug into the food, oblivious to my scheme. The week after, I ordered two mains and a dessert, all while boxing up the leftovers before anyone noticed. By the third week, the atmosphere shifted. When I ordered two appetizers and mains again, Josh raised an eyebrow. “You usually don’t order this much, Syd.” I shrugged, feigning innocence. As expected, when the bill came, my share skyrocketed. Josh’s frustration was palpable. “Seriously, Sydney? You’re taking all this home?” “Just doing what we agreed on,” I replied, a smirk creeping in. “We split the bill, right?” After weeks of this, they finally had enough. “Maybe we should do separate bills from now on?” Josh suggested, his tone awkward. Lisa nodded, and I couldn’t hide my grin. “Sounds fair to me.” That day, I ordered my usual salad and shared it around the table, relishing the newfound camaraderie. They soon realized they were overspending, and I could finally enjoy my meals without feeling exploited. I walked away from the lunches with my budget intact, planning for a raise in the near future. For now, I was content with my simple salads and green tea, knowing I had taken control of the situation.

When I started my new job, I was eager to fit in with my colleagues. I wanted to build relationships in this new environment, and the Friday lunch tradition was an easy way to do it. They seemed friendly and welcoming, so how could I say no?

However, there was a significant issue: my colleagues were in a different financial league. While they were established in their careers, I was just starting mine, scraping by on an entry-level salary while juggling loans, bills, and rent. Every Friday, we would head to fancy restaurants where the prices escalated week after week.

The first few times, I tried to brush it off. I ordered my usual salad or simple entrée, while two colleagues, Josh and Lisa, indulged in extravagant meat platters. Their $60 meals consistently overshadowed my $15 orders. When the bill arrived, they insisted we split it evenly, which felt increasingly unfair. I couldn’t help but feel resentful as I watched my budget dwindle.

People sitting around a table | Source: Midjourney

I contemplated bringing it up, but each time I gathered the courage, I hesitated. They laughed and casually dropped their credit cards on the table, seemingly oblivious to my struggle. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind: “Stand your ground, Syd.” But I didn’t want to rock the boat as the new person.

One fateful Friday, after yet another costly meal, I finally spoke up. “Hey, guys, maybe we could start doing separate bills? I’m not really eating as much.”

Josh laughed dismissively. “Come on, Sydney. It’s easier this way.” Lisa chimed in with a smirk, brushing my concerns aside. I felt a wave of frustration; my perspective didn’t seem to matter.

Determined to make a change, I decided to play their game but on my own terms. The next week, instead of my usual salad, I ordered two appetizers. They dug into the food, oblivious to my scheme. The week after, I ordered two mains and a dessert, all while boxing up the leftovers before anyone noticed.

By the third week, the atmosphere shifted. When I ordered two appetizers and mains again, Josh raised an eyebrow. “You usually don’t order this much, Syd.” I shrugged, feigning innocence.

As expected, when the bill came, my share skyrocketed. Josh’s frustration was palpable. “Seriously, Sydney? You’re taking all this home?”

“Just doing what we agreed on,” I replied, a smirk creeping in. “We split the bill, right?”

After weeks of this, they finally had enough. “Maybe we should do separate bills from now on?” Josh suggested, his tone awkward.

Lisa nodded, and I couldn’t hide my grin. “Sounds fair to me.”

That day, I ordered my usual salad and shared it around the table, relishing the newfound camaraderie. They soon realized they were overspending, and I could finally enjoy my meals without feeling exploited.

I walked away from the lunches with my budget intact, planning for a raise in the near future. For now, I was content with my simple salads and green tea, knowing I had taken control of the situation.

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