So you stop in and dazzle her with the ice cream. While you're there, some equally phony douche comes by with an A-actress arm ornament, and he buys her the sundae and a bottle of Dom. Next thing you know, you're hailing a taxi in the rain all by yourself, the High Roller is copping a feel off your erstwhile date in the coat room, and his date is sucking up to Donald Trump in the VIP lounge.
Welcome to NYC!
No, thanks. You keep it.