If you and I share drinks or dinner or a movie or whatever, and you offer to pick up the check, I will accept without protest.
This is not The Seattle Way™, which mandates a minimum of seven “oh no, I’ll get this one / oh no, I insist” volleys between the parties, and allows for escalation all the way up to the point where credit cards are slapped out of hands and cash is surreptitiously slipped into purses. It is because of this expectation, my enthusiastic “heck yeah you can pay for it!” is often met with a moment of perplexed silence.
Frankly, I think you should appreciate the fact that I skip the Pacific Northwest social convention and shave an hour and a half off our our departure time. Isn’t that ultimately worth the price of my three IPAs and black bean burger?
Regardless: you have been warned.