The Portuguese Penny-Pincher: Part 1
An NYC meet-cute that took me to Portugal and ended in the Dumpster
So, as I filled you in last week, the Berlin and Prague leg of our trip ended much quicker than anticipated, and we headed back to Como (home base, if you will). We stayed in the village for about six days before flying to Portugal. Como was the usual: walking the strip, tanning at the lake, and aperitivo at Glam’s. There just so happened to be a wine festival in the village while we were there, so naturally, we had one too many glasses of vino with our village friends. After that, we regrouped... and got ready for Portugal.
Where, I kid you not, I have never felt so disrespected by a man in my life. Buckle. Up.
Backstory: Meet “Andrew”
Andrew and I met in the city and started casually dating back in April 2024. Honestly, the story of how we met was very How I Met Your Mother vibes, a meet-cute if you will that had all the makings for a great rom-com. He was European, had a great job, was a few years older, taller than me, lived in a nice apartment... checked all my boxes (especially the European part).
So here’s how it happened: I was out in NYC with my girl Jordan (my favorite Virgo and a very close friend of mine). We were at a club we frequented, and since I used to hook up with the manager at said club, we obviously skipped the line and were immediately handed drinks upon entry. Needless to say, we got wasted because, well… #free.
Long story short: I lost Jordan and my phone. (Recurring theme for me losing my belongings.. I lost my phone to a monkey one time in Bali for God’s sake.) I was stumbling around the club, doing laps trying to find both Jordan and my phone. Eventually, I gave up, got in a cab, and went home. It was around 2 a.m.
Soon as I got home I drunkenly whipped out my laptop and sent a panicked group email to the girls: SOS, lost Jordan and lost my phone.
I woke up the next morning, checked my email, Jordan was safe and sound at home, but didn’t have my phone. So we hopped on a Google Meet video call (hungover and fighting for our lives with one combined brain cell), and she goes, “Wait! Let me try calling your phone.” Genius this woman.
She calls it, and then calls me back. She’s like: “Some guy answered. He has it. He says he doesn’t know how he got it, but it’s not stolen and he’ll give it back.”
I was confused as hell. Who was this mystery man? Why did he have my phone? Did we chat it up at the club last night? Nonetheless I was relieved it wasn’t stolen. Honestly, for me a win is a win.
So now Jordan and I, with our combined one brain cell, are trying to piece the night together like Dumb & Dumber on a google meet video. I'm like, “Wait… what if he's cute?” She’s like, “He sounded like he had an accent.” And if you know me, you know: I’m a SUCKER for an accent.
Thank God Jordan had my location shared, so she was tracking my phone. It was in SoHo. We’re like, “Oooo, maybe this guy lives in SoHo. So chic.” Two delulu girlies making up 87 scenarios based on one 30-second call. I'm like could this be my future husband? Like please.
Mystery man told Jordan he’d call when he was up and moving, so we went to get ramen nearby (best hangover food). We were thinking surely he'll call by the time we're done with our hangover noodles.
We checked the location again, now it’s in MIDTOWN. The plot thickens... We zoom in on the map… it’s next to a laundromat. Jordan and I, delusional as we are, go: “OMG… what if he works at the laundromat?” (Again needed to chill.)
We text him again from Jordan’s phone, “Hey, we can meet you wherever, please stop moving.” He replies, “Let’s meet in Columbus Circle around 6pm, and I can give it to you.”
I’m like… immediately no. I want my phone back now. I already chased my damn phone from SoHo to Midtown, and now you want me to go uptown in four hours? No. I ask for the cross streets and tell him we’ll meet him now.
Jordan and I are beyond confused like why are you in 3 VERY different locations across Manhattan on a Sunday after a late night out?? So bizarre. Luckily it's nice out but at this point, Jordan and I are trekking all over the city as if we were on a damn scavenger hunt.
The Meet-Cute
So anyways we FINALLY meet the mystery man in midtown. Jordan and I walk up to the block and all of a sudden see two people: one man who looks very European, and one guy who looks like a literal child rolling a suitcase. We look at each other like, “What in the hell is this dynamic?”
I cross the street and I'm like “heeeeyyyy”, he returns my phone and goes “I'm sorry, I don't even know how I got this phone, I woke up with it in my pocket at my friend’s place.” I’m hungover, confused, looking rough (puffy face, random clothes), and I just say it's all good, grab my phone, and leave. Later, I found out he was still in his clothes from the night before too. Loved that for us.
Jordan and I leave, walk away, and I’m like, “Wait, Jordan, was he cute??”
She’s like, “Hanna, that interaction was so fast I didn’t even look. But he was taller than you, had an accent, and definitely gave European.”
I was like: “Great. So I just let my future husband walk away.” (Me dramatic? Never.)
Then I’m like: “Wait, should I text him??”
So Jordan and I craft the line of the century:
“Hey! I was so flustered, I don’t even think I said thank you for returning my phone. And what was in Columbus Circle at 6pm.. me, you, and dinner?”
And just like that we had a first date set.
The First Date
So yes, I asked him out. What can I say, I'm just a girlie who goes after what she wants!
He planned the date, took me to this really nice open-kitchen pasta spot in the city. It was definitely pricey for a first date with essentially a stranger. I was impressed like, okay sir, pop off. Turns out, he was European (shocker), here on a work visa, a VP at a notable bank in the city, and lived on the Upper West Side. I was like, well damn, what more could I ask for? European, great job, nice apartment… and did I mention European? And given my dating history, the bar is LOW so this guy was great, a crush was already forming before the entrees were delivered. I fell fast.
Overall, it was a great first date and to this day, neither of us know how he actually ended up with my phone. It forever remains a mystery.
The First Red Flag
Anyway, fast forward, Andrew and I started casually dating. I say casual yet neither of us were dating other people, we had met each other's friends and also had a little weekend trip out of the city. And I basically lived at his apt the weeks leading up to my departure. So take casual with a grain of salt.
About a month after we had been dating, I went on my end-of-May trip (you know, the trip where I decided to quit my job). And this right here was red flag number one, or at least, should’ve been. But of course, I ignored it (as I do).
We were FaceTiming one night while I was on my trip, and I told him we were extending by a few days, and that I was thinking about finally quitting my not-so-glamorous fashion job. He immediately shut me down. He didn’t support it at all, even after I explained that this was what was best for me, and something I really thought I needed at the time. I had been going through it for a few months prior to meeting him, and he knew all of this in detail.
I remember he eventually came around by the end of the FaceTime call but it was one of those instances where it's only being done to appease you, not because they actually mean it. And mind you, we had only been dating for a month at this point. Like… you’re not in any position to be yucking someone’s yum. That did upset me a bit, but I brushed it off and chose to ignore that red flag. And I was going to do what was best for me regardless.
Looking back now, I honestly don’t think he ever supported the idea, or maybe he was just jealous?
The Invite
So I get back from my trip, and one day we’re just hanging out at his place. I’m telling him what S and I have planned: when we’re leaving, where we’re starting, who we are staying with, etc. He tells me he has a family vacation in August and that I should come if I’m in Europe and that I should bring S too.
He’s hyping up Portugal hard (as he always did), saying how fun it is in the summer, how inexpensive it is compared to New York, how he loves treating all his friends and family when he’s back home, how epic the beach parties are, how delicious all the food and wine is, and how many places he wants to take me to. The whole nine yards. So I'm sitting there all doe-eyed like, wow this is gonna be a dream. I really like this guy, this could be it. (Again I am dramatic and delusional as hell creating another 87 scenarios in my head.)
So just to be clear: he unpromptedly invited me and my best friend to join him and his family on their vacation. In his home country, for 5 days. And then, after the trip, we’d all go back to Lisbon together for a few days.
Obviously, I was so excited. Another country for Euro Summer? Free place to stay for a week? Holiday with the guy I liked? I couldn’t wait to tell S. And that's how we had the Portugal leg on the map.
The Arrival
That's the backstory. Now for the TEA.
In the days leading up to Portugal, I was getting seriously nervous. I was dating this guy, and we’d gotten pretty close, pretty fast. Andrew and I had agreed to be exclusive when we were together in New York, but not exclusive when we were apart. Cue my commitment issues, lol.
Anyway, I was anxious to meet his mom, brother, and close family friends. It felt like a big step.
S and I arrive at the airport and, honestly, it basically goes downhill from there and doesn't stop. Andrew doesn’t offer to help us with our bags. Doesn’t even fake-reach for one. Whatever, I brush it off.
We get to the beach apartment and my gut reaction immediately is: please let it look better on the inside than it does on the outside. It did not. It was a two-bedroom with a small living room, one bathroom, and a cramped kitchen. For 2-3 people, it would’ve been perfect. For five? Absolutely not. And to make matters worse, it had no AC. In August. In the south of Portugal. It was hotter than hell, I was sweating like a sinner in church.
Host from Hell
Now, just to be clear: I had asked multiple times about space and sleeping arrangements. I didn’t want to crash family time if it wasn’t going to work. And wanted to make sure S and I would both be comfortable. And if not, no problem, we could figure out our own hotel or something. Andrew reassured me that there was plenty of room, that we had a bedroom, and that S would have the living room all to herself with a “mattress” set up and everything. The living room had a door, so we figured: cool, it’ll be tight but doable.
We walk in, and I’m trying to be optimistic, it’s not great, but whatever. Then he shows S her “mattress.” And y’all… this thing was one inch thick. Sitting directly on the hard floor. He really had my best friend sleeping on the ground. I had secondhand embarrassment.
I know some of you might be thinking, wow, you’re really gonna complain when it’s a free place to stay? And yes, I am. Because why invite guests if there isn’t actual space for them? The vibes were immediately off, and it was really uncomfortable the entire time.
But wait, it gets worse!
Let’s fast forward real quick to the LAST DAY of this stay. We are loading up the car and what do I spy with my little eyes in the trunk of the car? Not ONE but TWO actual air mattresses. Just sitting there unused in the trunk. The same trunk he loaded on his way down here after making my best friend sleep on the ground all week. I was LIVID.
Now rewind to arrival at apt- I pulled S aside like, “Are you sure this is okay? Because that bed looks like a yoga mat.” Of course, she is like no, it's fine, we are grateful. Both of us were not actually saying what we were thinking.
Then came time to freshen up before going out. And guess what? NO BATH TOWELS FOR US.
He had driven down from their home in Lisbon, fully equipped with beach gear, umbrellas, air mattresses (unused), blankets, but somehow forgot to bring enough bath towels for the people they invited?? S and I each had to make do with one tiny hand towel for the entire week.
I'm like babe, I have one carry-on sized suitcase, I have one beach towel but a bath towel? Like you guys were coming from your home, you knew we were coming, you have nothing here for us, barely a bed for S and no bath towels for either of us like wtf. It was just giving lack of consideration all around.
Essentially just not a great host, which ok whatever it's still a free place to stay. It proceeds to get worse as I try to remain optimistic.
First Night Out: Penny-Pinching Commences
We go out the first night to a casual bar, like a super chill vibe. Andrew gets S and I a drink. We both thank him, and then S, being polite, says, “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to get mine.” And this man, this man you guys, responds to MY BEST FRIEND who he invited with, “Oh, you can get the next round.”
I was gagged. I’m sorry… what? Sir, you are a grown man, you are dating me, and you invited me and my best friend on your family vacation. I’m not saying you need to cover every single thing, but you’re gonna throw a comment like that over a $4 drink? Not exactly king behavior.
And like, no. We’re not buying the next round for you and your six friends. We don’t have jobs. We’re on a budget. And more than that, it’s the principle. You invited us. This isn’t girls crashing boys’ weekend, we were invited guests. So that was the start of the penny-pinching, literally night ONE.
The Grocery Run: Penny-Pinching Continues
Next morning we went to the grocery store, S and I both grabbed a few things that came out to a combined $30 USD, if that. Chump change. S and I said one night we would love to cook dinner for the fam at the apartment, so we grabbed ingredients for that as well. Keep in mind, everything in Portugal is mad cheap, as Andrew had literally raved about. How much he loves treating friends when he’s home, how far your money goes, etc etc.
Andrew has the cart and we are approaching the register. What does he do you ask? He takes mine and S’s items out and tells me to go to SELF CHECK OUT. I’m like… okay… surely he’s coming over to pay. NOPE, and it's literally stuff we are going to cook for HIS family. I'm confused as hell and it’s only day two. I’m still trying to be gracious. I tell myself, “Okay, he’s housing us. It’s no biggie.” But also like… really?
And then the cherry on top of this fantastic grocery run: S and I had been joking about how we had been gaining weight, at an exponentially fast rate, poking fun at ourselves probably because we were both feeling a little insecure and just not looking our best in bikinis. After this Andrew’s brother proceeds to make some dumb ass joke essentially saying I was reminding him of SHREK. I'm like … okaaayyyy. Thanks for making me feel even more fat and ugly and comparing me to a literal ogre. And Andrew said nothing when this “joke” was made.
Dinner with the Fam
Later that day we went out to dinner with the fam. Andrew ordered for the table. There are 5 of us, he orders TWO soups to start. S and I look at each other across the table like wtf 2 soups? There are 5 people, you do the math.
And then when the food arrives, Andrew starts dishing it out and he would give S and me the tiniest, saddest little portions and then serves himself like… the whole damn crab. It was such odd behavior, and S was left with like scraps every time we went out to eat. Again, secondhand embarrassment.
S and I were literally hungry the entire time we were in the South of Portugal. Like genuinely underfed. We were one missed meal away from eating each other lol.
Beach Day & Beach Party
The next day we go to the beach, and honestly? It was actually a nice day. We laughed, swam, the vibes were solid. We go back to get ready to go to a beach party. I'm changing and this man makes a seemingly casual comment about my body hair which again just makes me feel more insecure. I wish I was joking lol.
I finish getting ready and look great, S is hyping me up since I’m getting no words of affirmation or any positive compliments from “my man”. We get to the party, he goes up to the ticket counter… gets his ticket, not mine, doesn't even offer. He turns his back to me when it's my turn at the ticket counter.
S looks at me horrified and goes, “Why are you paying for your own ticket?” I'm like, “I have no idea, he didn't pay for mine like what am I supposed to do?”, and in my head I’m thinking why tf am I even here? I proceeded to pay for my own ticket, Andrew’s back still turned away from me. S pulls me aside and goes “Hanna, as your friend that was really hard to watch”.
I wanted to be like, if you’re not gonna pay for my ticket, I will happily go find another man who will. Because why am I even here with you if I’m footing the bill for myself like I’m some random friend you just met? It's just not right.
I let all of this slide and we ended up having such a great time with him and his friends but I was super disturbed that he didn't get my ticket or any drinks in the bar. And then has the audacity to call me when S and I are at the bar charming the bartender to get free shots, like… if you want a say in who’s giving me alcohol, then come buy it for me, sir.
Sandal Saga & the Venmo Request
The next day, my sandals broke. We're at the beach. I needed sandals, not gonna wear heels or sneakers to the beach. We stopped at a little beach shop, and I found a pair that’ll do the job. I went up to the register to pay and they started to speak to me in Portuguese. I think they were saying cash only or something. I didn't have cash (obviously). So I just kinda look at Andrew like… help? He chats with them in Portuguese, turns to me, and goes, “They don’t take American cards.” I’m like okay, weird, but whatever. So he pays.
I lean in, kiss him, and go, “Aww, thank you so much.” Then this man, this man, looks at me and says, “It’s okay, you can Venmo me later.”
THE WAY I HAVE NEVER DRIED UP FASTER. I CAN VENMO YOU LATER??? And you can suck your own d*ck later. Like… are you serious??
They were fifteen. Freaking. Dollars!!!
Club Night & Confusion
Later that night we went out to another club. I'm at the bar waiting for Andrew to come over and ask me what I want to drink. He doesn't. He actually avoids it. I proceed to get my own drink and then stay at the bar with S. Another guy comes up to me and starts hitting on me, nothing crazy just a flirty convo. I politely tell him I'm here with someone and he backs off. Then here comes Andrew of course. Not coming up to me but goes to S and proceeds to say, “It's so funny to watch other guys try to talk to her” like I'm some kind of property he owned. I was LIVID when S told me this. I wasn’t even flirting, and I definitely wasn’t planning to entertain anyone, looking back I should’ve let that guy buy me a drink since apparently “my man” couldn’t be bothered and was apparently incapable of getting anything for me.
The worst part of all of this is that Andrew was literally a VP in NYC and Portugal is one of the cheapest countries I have ever been to in my life. This man would pay for everything in New York- drinks, dinners, etc. And now, all of a sudden, he’s got alligator arms? Made no sense. At one point on the trip he made a comment saying “I'm not a bank”, yeah you sure aren't sir.
The next day, I’m super hungover and actually feel sick-sick. Fever, chills, I can’t get out of our bed. I kept saying I needed electrolytes or something; Gatorade, medicine, anything. Andrew doesn’t offer to help. Doesn’t ask if I need anything. Just goes, “Yeah, you can walk to the pharmacy. It’s not far.”
In my head I’m like… just leave. Because now I’m not even mad, I’m disgusted. You can’t even walk five minutes to get your sick girl damn Gatorade? Jesus.
The rest of the week goes exactly like this, and I am pretending it’s fine to keep the peace. The sex was good at least, thank God for that, but by the end of the trip, I was completely turned off. I knew then and there: this man was not it.
Trash Day
The last day comes. Time to clean up the house and pack up the cars. I was helping to clean the kitchen and Andrew's hands were full when we were about to exit the apartment and he goes “Can you grab the trash?” I’m like, “Yeah, of course, no problem, your hands are full.”
We walk down the stairs, and he loads his last bags into the car. His hands? Now completely empty.
I’m still standing there, arms full, holding all the trash.
He looks at me and POINTS HIS FINGER towards the direction of the dumpster in the most condescending way. Like a full arm to wrist circle ending with a pointed finger in the direction of where the dumpsters were.
S’s jaw hit the floor.
You’re a grown man. You’ve got no bags. And you’re pointing me to the dumpsters while I’m standing there struggling with all the trash?
Then and there it was really all game over for me.
I took the trash out, and threw my feelings for this man away with it. 🚮
And you guys, this is only part one, believe it or not there were so many other horrid instances on this five day trip but I'm gonna spare you.
Stay tuned for part two next week of what happened, or lack thereof, in Lisbon.
Ciao for now! XX
Hanna
To me, Andrew sounds like a genuinely nice and normal guy. It’s honestly sad how you’re treating him. You’re just dating, and yet you act like he’s your personal pay pig. You could seriously use a therapist. In the beginning, everything was nicely written, but once you were in Berlin/Prague, I just felt bad for Kev. You jump from one guy to the next, expecting them all to pay for you. #FreeAndrew