Ronny had high hopes for his evening with Denise. Their chats had been warm, witty, and promising. So when they agreed to meet at a chic downtown restaurant, he arrived early, eager to make a good impression. But as Denise walked in, she wasn’t alone—her mother, Claire, strutted in beside her, radiating confidence and scrutiny.
Introduced with a smile, Claire wasted no time. Her handshake was firm, her gaze sharper than the steak knives on the table. Ronny, though taken aback, played along politely. But dinner quickly turned into an interrogation. Claire fired off questions like a seasoned prosecutor: Where do your parents work? Do you rent or own? What’s your income?
Ronny answered calmly, but the atmosphere was tense. Denise offered no reprieve, nodding along as if this was perfectly normal. Claire’s tone grew more condescending, even ordering the most expensive items on the menu without hesitation. It became clear—this wasn’t just a protective mother. It was a test, or worse, a power play.
But Ronny wasn’t about to fold.
With a subtle smile, he leaned into the absurdity. He began answering Claire’s questions with exaggerated charm and playful wit. When asked about his job, he described it like a movie trailer. When asked about his house, he painted it as a humble palace of peace. He complimented Claire’s boldness, even joking that she’d make a great CIA recruiter.
The mood shifted. Claire, caught off guard by his confidence and humor, began to soften. Denise laughed more genuinely. Ronny had flipped the script—not by resisting, but by outplaying them with grace.
By the end of the night, Claire admitted she’d misjudged him. Denise looked at him with new admiration. Ronny didn’t just survive the ambush—he turned it into a performance.
And as he walked away from the restaurant, he knew one thing: if love is a battlefield, wit is his weapon of choice.
