I'm not sure what the exchange rate is on Aussie bucks, and I'm too damn lazy to look it up. $200 is a lot of dinero for a meal for two. Hell, half that is a lot. You can't afford it? Boo-****ing-hoo. Take her someplace less expensive. Good dates aren't about dropping stacks of money. For less than 20 US dollars you can get yourself a rotisserie chicken, a bottle or two of your favorite beverage, and two sides. Take that out to a park on a beautiful day. Unless she really is a whore, she'll enjoy a good picnic every bit as much.
I don't care what the trend is. Call me a traditionalist, but a woman should never, ever pay for a date, nor should she have to meet you there, or worse, pick your sorry ass up. Screw the feminist movement. If she wants to open doors, pull out chairs, or foot the bill, fine, she can do it with her bulldyke girlfriend. But she sure as hell ain't gonna do it when I take her out.
And why don't you compliment her? I lavish my women with compliments. I turn them from modest, decent human beings to vain, materialistic bitches. I want men fawning over her. I want them salivating when she walks through a door. And then I want them to burn with envy when I wrap my arms around her. Sure, some have tried to use me, but the moment they take my generosity for granted is the moment I kick them to the curb. There are too many gorgeous women in this world to get hung up over one.