The Dangerous Ideology of Splitting the Bill — or, On Love and Receipts

Whether a couple should split the bill on a date is a topic that periodically ignites debate between men and women.

“Equality.”

“Paying is outdated.”

“What about feminism?”

Every time, the same reasonable arguments resurface.

But to me, the real problem with splitting the bill lies elsewhere.

Splitting the bill cannot account for emotion.

When money is withheld, relationships often demand payment in other currencies:

time, attentiveness, youth, the body, emotional labor.

These forms of payment cannot be quantified.

And what cannot be quantified cannot be settled.

So the relationship becomes one paid for with emotion.

Looking back at the men I’ve encountered, I noticed a pattern:

those who paid the least often had the most opinions.

About lifestyle, clothes, values, friendships.

Perhaps because they weren’t paying financially, they tried to “break even” with opinions.

As if asserting control or authority could substitute for payment.

Maybe that was their version of masculinity.

And relationships like this tend to end badly.

Because no one can clearly say who paid, or how much.

Men say:

“I spent time.”

“My feelings were genuine.”

Women say:

“I was worn down.”

“I lost something.”

Nothing is recovered.

The breakup becomes an emotional courtroom, with no verdict.

The relationship simply collapses unresolved.

Interestingly, men with money often lack time.

As a result, relationships don’t drag on indefinitely.

Frequency, distance, and payment remain realistic.

It may seem cold — but it’s clean.

There is closure.

The more ambiguous money becomes,

the more tightly emotions bind.

And the tighter emotions bind,

the more violently things break later.

That realization made me revisit a famous Japanese song:

Ringo Sheena’s “Marunouchi Sadistic.”

One line suddenly made perfect sense:

“Write me a receipt.”

This isn’t about money.

It’s about a receipt for love.

A final request to prove that everything given in an ambiguous relationship —

care, effort, devotion — wasn’t meaningless.

A last attempt at accounting.

Splitting the bill is neither equality nor maturity.

It is an ideology that preserves unpayable emotional debt

under the name of “a relationship.”

That’s why this line appears so abruptly

in an otherwise chaotic love song.

Suddenly:

“Write me a receipt.”

If you’ve ever given something of yourself

and received nothing in return,

you understand exactly what that line means.

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Note for non-Japanese readers

“Marunouchi Sadistic” is a well-known song by Japanese artist, Ringo Sheena.

Its lyrics jump erratically between images, power dynamics, and emotional aggression.

The line “Write me a receipt” stands out because it sounds mundane — almost bureaucratic — in a love song.

That contrast is precisely the point.

It’s a demand for accountability in a relationship that never clarified its terms.

Postscript:

Perhaps this is also why Quentin Tarantino titled his masterpiece Kill Bill. It wasn't just a man’s name; it was the unpaid Bill (the invoice) of a life stolen that needed to be killed—once and for all.

——— ©️DSH / 2025