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 virtually met Jacob on a dating site several months ago, we hit it off instantly. The connection felt real — the kind that makes your heart skip a beat when you see a new message notification. I grew to think that he was “the one,” but then when we actually met… well, let’s just say reality has a way of shattering our perfectly crafted illusions.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
Three months of late-night texts and hour-long video calls had built up to this moment. Jacob wasn’t just another match; he was different.
While most guys led with cheesy pickup lines or bland “hey” messages, he had caught my attention with a detailed comment about my profile photo taken at Comic-Con.
“Is that a handmade Scarlet Witch costume?” he’d written. “The detail work is incredible!”
From there, our conversations flowed naturally. He listened, really listened, when I talked about my work as a graphic designer and my dreams of starting my own studio.
A woman using a computer | Source: Midjourney
He shared my love for true crime podcasts and could quote every episode of my favorite shows by heart. When I mentioned my sister’s battle with depression, he opened up about his own experiences with anxiety.
“I feel like I can tell you anything,” he’d said during one of our video calls, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ve never connected with someone like this before.”
“Me neither,” I’d admitted, feeling my cheeks flush. “Sometimes I worry this is too good to be true.”
He’d laughed then, running a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t wait to finally meet you in person. Friday at Coffee Beanz? 7 p.m.?”
A man using a laptop | Source: Pexels
“It’s a date! Finally!” I’d chirped, unable to contain my excitement.
“See you on Friday!” He said as I hung up, blushing.
I spent the entire week planning my outfit, finally settling on a gorgeous dress that my best friend Sarah insisted brought out my eyes.
“He won’t know what hit him,” she’d said, helping me style my hair.
Friday evening found me standing outside Coffee Beanz, smoothing down my dress for the hundredth time. Through the window, I could see couples enjoying their meals, soft candlelight flickering across their faces.
People in a cafe | Source: Unsplash
My hands were shaking slightly as I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the warm aroma of garlic and fresh bread enveloping me. My eyes nervously darted around in search of Jacob.
“Lia! Over here!”
I turned toward Jacob’s familiar voice, my practiced smile freezing on my face. There he sat, but not ALONE.
An older couple sat beside him, their faces beaming with smiles. My heart, which had been filled with excitement all day, sank to my stomach.
“Hey… um, hi, what’s going on?” I managed, my brain struggling to process the scene before me.
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
Jacob stood up, his bright smile unchanged as if this was completely normal. “Lia, I’m so excited to finally meet you! These are my parents, Linda and Patrick!”
Linda, a petite woman with perfectly coiffed gray hair and gold earrings that probably cost more than my monthly rent, gave me a practiced smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Patrick, sporting a dress shirt that seemed a size too small for his frame, barely looked up from his menu.
“Sit down, girl,” Linda patted the chair next to her, not next to Jacob. “While we wait for our appetizers, I have a few questions for you.”
An older lady smiling | Source: Midjourney
I sank into the chair, still trying to make sense of this ambush. The waiter appeared with water glasses, and I found myself wishing it was something stronger.
That’s when Linda pulled out a crisp sheet of paper from her designer handbag.
“Now then,” she cleared her throat, clicking her gold-plated pen. “I’ve prepared a brief questionnaire to help us get to know you better. I want you to fill it out.”
Sheets of paper on a table | Source: Pexels
My eyes scanned the paper she placed before me, each question worse than the last:
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?
A startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
The questions went on and on like a never-ending train carriage. My water glass stopped halfway to my mouth. “I’m sorry, but is this for real?”
“Of course it is, dear,” Linda replied, her tone suggesting I was being deliberately difficult. “Our family has certain standards to maintain. We need to ensure any potential partners for our Jacob are… suitable.”
My eyes darted to Jacob, waiting for him to jump in, to say this was all a joke. But he just sat there, examining his napkin as if it held the secrets of the universe.
A man sitting casually | Source: Midjourney
Something snapped inside me. Three months of building this connection, sharing hopes and fears, only to be treated like a job applicant? No. This called for a different approach.
“Would you excuse me for just a moment?” I smiled sweetly. “Ladies’ room.”
Instead of heading to the restroom, I ducked into the convenience store next door. Five minutes later, I returned with my own notebook and pen.
“Before I answer your questions,” I said, sitting down with renewed confidence, “I have a few of my own.”
A woman holding a piece of paper | Source: Pexels
Linda’s perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up in surprise as I placed the paper with my questions on the table. She picked it up and began reading loudly, her face speaking volumes of her anger.
“Question one: At what point did you realize your son wasn’t capable of choosing his own partner?”
Patricks’s face reddened. Jacob finally looked up from his napkin.
“Question two: How many women have actually completed your interrogation process? Or do most run screaming before the credit check?”
“This is completely inappropriate!” Linda’s voice pitched higher as she continued to read.
A furious older woman with a man | Source: Midjourney
“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!” Jacob slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump. “You have no right to disrespect my family like this!”
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “Oh, but they have every right to treat me like I’m applying for a position at the FBI?”
“My parents are just looking out for me,” he protested, his voice weak. “They want what’s best— “
“No, Jacob. What’s best for you would be growing a backbone and living your own life.”
Linda and Patrick were already gathering their things, faces flushed with indignation. Linda’s hands shook as she stuffed her questionnaire back into her bag.
“We’re leaving,” she announced. “Jacob, come on. She’s not the one for you.”
“Wait!” I called out, loud enough for nearby tables to turn. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Side shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney
They paused. “WHAT??”
“Waiter, these people are trying to leave without paying their bill!” I announced loudly, waving to the waiter. “Guess running out on checks is another proud family tradition!”
The restaurant had gone quiet. Linda’s hands shook as she pulled out her credit card, practically throwing it at the waiter. I stood up, smoothing my dress once again.
“Well, this has been entertaining. I’ll cover my water.” I placed a five-dollar bill on the table and turned to Jacob.
“Good luck finding someone who meets your family’s rigorous standards. Although, you might want to try job recruitment sites instead of dating apps. I hear they provide detailed background checks and references.”
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
As I walked out into the cool evening air, my phone buzzed with a message from Jacob, “You didn’t have to be so cruel. My parents were just looking out for me.”
I typed back, “Just looking out for myself, mama’s boy. Goodbye!”
Later that night, Sarah called to hear about the date. After I finished telling her everything, she was quiet for a moment.
“You know what?” she finally said. “I bet Linda has a spreadsheet ranking all of Jacob’s potential wives.”
We both burst out laughing, and I felt the last of my disappointment melt away. Dodged a bullet? Absolutely. And I’ve never been so grateful for a red flag wrapped in a questionnaire.
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Woman Arrives at the Farm She Inherited from Her Grandfather to Sell It, but a Farmhand Stands in Her Way — Story of the Day
Rebecca arrives at the farm she inherited, ready to sell it and move on. But a stubborn farmhand refuses to let her make an easy sale. He challenges her at every turn, forcing her to confront not just him but the memories and responsibilities she thought she left behind. Their clash will decide the farm’s fate.
Early in the morning, Rebecca got into her car, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. This wasn’t part of her usual routine, but something unexpected had come up, and she had to deal with it.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Leaving her small business in the hands of her assistant, she set off on a long drive, heading out of the busy city.
Rebecca was on her way to her late grandfather’s farm, which he had left to her in his will. She hadn’t been there in years. As a child, she spent summers there, running around and playing, but once she grew older her visits stopped.
Rebecca always assumed her grandfather would pass the farm on to one of his workers, someone who truly needed it. Now, she had no intention of running it herself. Her plan was simple—check things out, find a buyer, and sell it as quickly as possible.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca parked near the farmhouse and stepped out, glancing around. As she turned, she noticed a man on the porch. He stood up quickly, smiling.
“Hey there,” he said. “You must be my new boss. I’m Derek.” He stepped forward, offering his hand.
Rebecca shook it, frowning slightly. Something about him seemed familiar. “Hi, Derek. But you’ve got it wrong. I’m not your boss.”
Derek tilted his head. “Well then, may I at least know the name of my non-boss?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” Rebecca said, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Wait a minute. Are you the same Rebecca who let all the chickens out so the dog could have fun?” He chuckled.
Rebecca’s eyes widened as the memory came back. Derek was the son of one of her grandfather’s workers, and they used to play together when she was little. “And you’re the same Derek who taught me to chase them with a slingshot?”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. They both laughed, easing the tension.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s expression grew serious. “So, what do you mean you’re not my boss? The farm was left to you, right?”
Rebecca’s smile faded. “Yes, but I don’t plan to keep it. I’m here to sell it.”
“What? Sell it? To who?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, shrugging. “Whoever wants to buy it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Even if they tear it down?” he asked.
“Well… yes.”
Derek stepped closer, his voice rising. “How could you do that? Your grandfather spent his life on this farm! It was everything to him.”
Rebecca felt a pang of guilt but tried to stand her ground. “He’s gone, Derek. And I have my own life. Being a farmer wasn’t part of my plan.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s eyes searched hers. “What about the animals? The people who work here? You’re just going to let them lose everything?”
She hesitated. “The new owner will handle that.”
Derek’s face darkened. “You don’t care at all, do you?”
“I care. It’s just… not my responsibility anymore,” she said quietly, turning to walk toward the house.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s voice followed her. “You heartless witch!”
Rebecca winced but didn’t turn back. She quickened her pace, heading inside, trying to ignore the doubts his words stirred.
The next morning, Rebecca was startled awake by a knock on her door. She groggily got up and opened it to find a man standing on the porch.
“Good morning, Rebecca,” he said, nodding politely. “I’m Travis. I manage the fields here. Something’s happened, and I think you’ll want to see it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “Morning. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”
She quickly threw on the first clothes she found, then followed Travis outside. They walked through the farm until they reached one of the main fields. Rebecca’s heart sank when she saw the crops. They looked weak, wilted, and sickly.
“What’s wrong with them?” she asked.
Travis sighed, his expression grim. “Hard to say. Maybe someone spread something to damage them. Could be competitors. But if we don’t act fast, we’ll lose the entire crop.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca’s face tightened. “I don’t care. I’m selling the farm. That’s my plan.”
Travis glanced at her. “You’d get a lot more money if you sold it as a working farm. Not just land.”
Rebecca knew he had a point. She hesitated, then asked, “So, what do you need from me?”
“I need an extra worker. One of our guys is out sick, and we don’t have enough hands,” Travis explained.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Alright,” Rebecca said. “I’ll find someone to help.”
Rebecca spent the entire day making phone calls, trying to find someone to hire. She went through a long list of contacts, but every answer was the same—nobody was available.
By evening, she was exhausted, her energy completely drained. She felt like a squeezed lemon, with nothing left to give.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tired and frustrated, Rebecca found herself wandering toward the stables. She remembered how, as a child, she would sit there for hours, surrounded by the soft sounds of the horses.
It always calmed her. She gently petted their noses, fed them some hay, and felt a wave of comfort wash over her. She sighed, thinking, who would have imagined this farm could bring her so many problems?
“Oh, I didn’t know princesses visited stables,” Derek said, his tone icy as he stepped inside.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca turned, frowning. “What’s with the attitude?”
Derek folded his arms. “How else should I talk to someone who doesn’t care?”
“For your information, I spent all day trying to find a worker for Travis,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but his accusation stung.
Derek’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “So you can sell the farm for a better price. That’s what Travis said.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt building inside her.
“I can help Travis,” Derek said, “but I need support with the livestock. That’s my job.”
“There’s no one available to work,” she said.
Derek stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You could help.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca blinked, surprised. “Me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Or are your hands too soft for real work?”
“I know how to work,” she shot back. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever really known how to do.”
“Good,” Derek said, turning toward the door. “Then it’s settled.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca stood there, still processing, as he walked away, wondering how she’d just agreed to help.
For the next few weeks, Rebecca found herself doing things she never expected. She woke up early each morning, pulling on boots and gloves, ready to work. She helped the workers in the fields, fed the animals, and even joined them in the kitchen, cooking meals after long days.
At first, she thought it would be a struggle, but the workers were patient and kind, teaching her the tasks step by step. They treated her like part of the team, and she started to see how much they cared about the farm.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca began to question if selling the farm was the right decision. Every night, she fell into bed exhausted, but it was a different kind of tiredness. The farm, once just a burden, was slowly becoming a place she was starting to care about.
One evening, as she walked back to the house, she spotted something unusual—small surveillance cameras mounted on poles, pointing straight at the field. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
After asking around, she learned from Sarah, a longtime farm worker, where to access the footage. Sarah brought it to the house, and Rebecca started watching the recordings.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She fast-forwarded until she found what she was looking for—footage of someone sneaking through the field, scattering a strange powder over the crops. The image was blurry at first, but then the figure’s face came into view. Rebecca’s heart dropped. It was Derek.
Furious, she slammed her laptop shut and stormed out of the house. Without thinking, she marched straight toward Derek’s cabin, her mind spinning.
Rebecca stormed up to Derek’s door. When he opened it, she held out her laptop, the screen showing the footage. “Care to explain this?!” she snapped.
Derek sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I was trying to delay the sale,” he said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“So you decided to destroy the farm?!” Rebecca yelled, her voice shaking.
“I didn’t destroy it,” Derek replied. “I slowed things down. It worked. I know you’ve started to care.”
“You can’t just do that, Derek! People had to work harder because of you!” she shouted.
“I thought you didn’t care about the people here,” he said. “I wanted to make you see what this farm means.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca felt a sting in his words, but she refused to back down. “But you messed up! I don’t care! That’s why I’m selling it—to the first buyer who shows up!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed away, leaving Derek standing there.
Two days later, two businessmen arrived at the farm. Rebecca greeted them with a polite smile and led them on a tour, showing them the fields, the barns, and the house. She kept her tone professional, trying to stay detached.
After the tour, Ryan, one of the men, said, “We’re ready to buy it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “Great! When can we sign the contract?” she asked.
“Right now,” said the other man, Tom. “We brought our lawyer with us.”
Rebecca nodded and led them inside. They sat at the dining table, and the lawyer set the papers down. She picked up the pen, but her hand froze. Something didn’t feel right. “You’re buying the farm to run it, right?” she asked.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Not exactly,” Ryan replied. “We plan to build a factory here. Is that a problem?”
Rebecca’s stomach twisted. She hesitated, but forced a smile. “No, no problem.” Her eyes drifted to the wall. A childhood photo of her and her grandfather hung there—she was feeding a calf, smiling wide. She took a deep breath, pushing the papers closer. Slowly, she prepared to sign.
After fifteen minutes, Rebecca walked Ryan, Tom, and their lawyer out of the house. She spotted Derek sitting under a tree, watching. Tom shook her hand. “Well, good luck,” he said. Ryan did the same, and then they drove off.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek got up and walked over. “Congratulations,” he said flatly. “The farm’s no longer your problem. How much did you sell it for?”
Rebecca looked at him. “I changed my mind.”
“What?” Derek’s eyes widened, confused.
“I’m not selling it,” she repeated.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s frown melted into a smile. “Really?”
“Don’t get too happy,” she said, trying to stay serious. “I’m a demanding boss. My employees usually avoid me.”
Derek suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, catching her off guard. After a moment, she realized what was happening and hugged him back, feeling something warm and hopeful stir inside her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything. Read the full story here.
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