When it comes to dating, my financial mentality is “I’ll get it this time, and you can get it next.” It’s easy and takes the whole let’s-Venmo-the same-money-back-and-forth-until-we-die act out of the equation. But seeing someone can get expensive, and while I don’t mind spending my hard-earned casheesh on a person I care for, there are a slew of relationships from which I wish I could get my dollars (and time) back. And now, I’ve come to collect.

Dani charged Keith* for concert.

Keith’s friend was putting on a show, and he asked if I’d join. I said yes, thinking he’d cover the tickets because if roles were reversed, I would. Instead, he sent me the link to purchase. Worse, $30 later, we got to the venue only to find out the event was cancelled. Keith said he’d get my money back and, to no one’s surprise, he did not. On my birthday (about five months after I had stopped speaking to him), he texted me saying my birthday gift was what he owed me from the show. He then claimed he couldn’t find my Venmo username, an unlikely excuse given he had my number saved. Keith, let me make this clear: You now have 24 hours to complete this request.

Dani charged Liam* for cab.

After drinking together one night, Liam said he was tired and wanted to go home. He asked me to come with, but he seemed quite out of it, so I told him we could hang the next day if he’d rather sleep solo. He said no, it was fine for me to come, but when we arrived at his destination, he decided he should, in fact, sleep alone. So I had to pay for a cab to his place, then back to my apartment, which was near the bar we were at to begin with. Don’t forget to add interest for every day since this very moment, tyvm.

Dani charged Andrew* for plane ticket.

He begged me to come visit him on the West Coast even though I thought it was a bit much after only being together for a few months. As soon as I got there, he wasn’t super nice. I won’t go into detail, but Andrew wasn’t winning any best boyfriend awards. I cried the whole plane ride back, and we broke up a few days after I got home. Told you it was a bad idea. Andrew, give me money!

Dani charged Sam* for partial therapy.

He didn’t really do anything too bad, oh, except for cause me a fair amount of emotional damage, which took me away from my initial focus in therapy. Because I was spending my time trying to make sense of his brain, I had double the sessions, double the payments, and double the fun. My insurance doesn’t cover much, Sam. Pony up.

Dani charged Chris* for Chinese food.

Before he came over to hang, he asked, “Will you be feeding me?” Which, fair, but rude. He also took home the leftovers. I don’t know who raised Chris, but I was taught that if you host and buy the food, you have dibs on the leftovers. The next morning, however, was sadly dumplingless. I’ll take remittance in the form of shumai.

Dani charged Jordan* for pizza-delivery embarrassment.

Jordan and I were going home together but, because we were in a college town where everyone was trying to leave at the same time, we couldn’t get an Uber. He flagged down a pizza delivery guy and told him he’d tip him a lot of money (red flag of douchiness) to take us to his place. Against my better judgement, I slid in next to the pepperoni pie. Not only was Jordy boy extremely annoying to the driver, but he kept getting out and insisting upon personally delivering the pizza to each house on the way. I was mortified and apologized to the driver roughly a dozen times. That night I smelled of grease and shame. *BBHMM by Rihanna plays in the background*

*Names have been changed to protect not-so-innocent daters.