Who brings their parents to a first date?
My boyfriend from a dating app did. But what really got me was the list of OUTRAGEOUS DEMANDS his parents brought with them. I knew I’d have to outwit them… but on my own terms.
When I first met Nathan online a few months ago, we got along right away. It felt real — the kind of feeling that makes you excited every time you get a new message. I started to think he might be the one. But when we finally met face-to-face… things went very differently.
After three months of late-night texting and long video calls, it was finally time to meet. Nathan didn’t feel like just another guy — he felt special.
Most guys just say “hi” or send a silly message, but Nathan noticed something on my profile photo and asked about it.
“Is that a handmade Scarlet Witch outfit? It looks amazing!”
After that, our talks were easy and fun. He really listened when I talked about being a graphic designer and my goals for the future.
He also liked true crime podcasts, just like me, and could quote every episode of my favorite show. When I talked about my sister’s depression, he told me about his own struggles with anxiety.
“I feel like I can tell you anything,” he said once, his brown eyes kind.
“I’ve never felt this close to someone before.”
“Me too,” I said, feeling a little shy. “Sometimes I wonder if this is too perfect.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair.
“I can’t wait to meet you in person. Friday at Brew Haven? 7 p.m.?”
“Yes! I’m so excited!” I said, smiling.
I spent the week picking my outfit and chose a pretty dress that my best friend Megan said looked great on me.
“He’s going to be amazed,” she told me while helping with my hair.
On Friday night, I stood outside Brew Haven, checking my dress again and again. Through the window, I saw couples talking and laughing.
I was a little nervous when I walked in. The smell of garlic bread filled the room. I looked around for Nathan.
“Talia! Over here!”
I turned and saw him — but he wasn’t alone.
Two older people sat next to him, smiling. My happy feelings dropped fast.
“Hi… um, what’s happening?” I asked, confused.
Nathan stood up, still smiling.
“Talia, it’s great to meet you! These are my parents — Grace and Martin!”
Grace, a small woman with neat gray hair and fancy earrings, gave me a fake smile. Martin, wearing a tight shirt, didn’t look up from his menu.
“Sit down, dear,” Grace said, patting the seat next to her — not Nathan.
“We just want to ask a few questions before we eat.”
I sat down, still trying to understand what was going on. A waiter came with water, but I really wished it was wine.
Then Grace took out a clean sheet of paper from her purse.
“I made a short list of questions,” she said, holding a gold pen.
“Please fill this out.”
I looked at the paper and couldn’t believe it. The questions were wild:
1. What is your current annual income and five-year career projection?
2. Please list any medical conditions, including a family history of genetic disorders.
3. How many romantic partners have you had, and what were the reasons for those relationships ending?
4. Do you own or lease your vehicle? What is your credit score?
5. Are you willing to sign a prenuptial agreement?
6. Do you plan to work after having children? If so, who will provide childcare?
7. What is your stance on living with in-laws?
8. Are you willing to host special occasions like Thanksgiving & Christmas every year without expecting a penny from your partner?
The list was so long, it felt never-ending. I froze with my glass halfway to my mouth.
“Is this real?” I asked.
“Of course,” Grace said like I was being rude.
“Our family has rules. We must make sure anyone dating Nathan is good enough.”
I looked at Nathan, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he just looked at his napkin like it was super interesting.
That was it. I’d had enough. After three months of deep talks and feelings, I was being treated like a job applicant? No way.
“Excuse me,” I said with a sweet smile. “I need to use the restroom.”
But instead, I went to the store next door. Five minutes later, I came back with my own notebook and pen.
“Before I answer,” I said, sitting down, “I have a few questions too.”
Grace looked surprised. I handed her a page. She read it, her face getting redder with every line.
“Question one: At what point did you realize your son wasn’t capable of choosing his own partner?”
Martin’s face turned red. Nathan finally looked up.
“Question two: How many women have actually completed your interrogation process? Or do most run screaming before the credit check?”
“This is rude,” Grace said, but I kept going.
“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!” Nathan shouted, hitting the table so hard the silverware jumped.
“You don’t get to disrespect my parents like that!”
“And they can treat me like I’m applying for a secret agent job?”
“They just want what’s best—”
“No, Nathan. What’s best is for you to grow up.”
Grace and Martin stood up, angry. Grace grabbed the paper and shoved it in her bag.
“We’re leaving,” she said. “Nathan, come. She’s not right for you.”
“Wait!” I called out. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What now?” they asked.
“Waiter! These people are trying to leave without paying the bill!” I shouted. “I guess skipping out is a family thing?”
The room went quiet. Grace took out her credit card, hands shaking.
I stood and put $5 on the table.
“This is for my water.”
I looked at Nathan.
“Good luck finding someone who fits your family’s list. Maybe try job hiring websites next time.”
I walked out into the cool night. My phone buzzed.
Nathan: You didn’t need to be so mean. My parents were just protecting me.
Me: I’m protecting myself. Goodbye, mama’s boy.
Later that night, Megan called to hear about the date. After I told her everything, she paused.
“You know what?” she said. “I bet Grace keeps a spreadsheet of every girl Nathan has dated.”
We both laughed so hard, my anger melted away.
Did I dodge a bullet? 100%.
And I’ve never been more thankful for a giant red flag that came with its own list of rules.
