One should always be suspicious when an invitation comes with just enough flirtation to make a gentleman forget to ask who else has been invited.

There is a certain former beauty queen, who once participated in one of the Philippines’ grand pageant franchises, has apparently found a rather creative use for Instagram.

Her method is simple, if not exactly romantic.

He slides in her DMs.

She flirts.

Not excessively, of course, although our beauty queen has a particular talent for making a gentleman feel like he has won the dating lottery. A few compliments. A little banter. Perhaps an exchange of suggestive emojis.

By Friday, the gentleman receives an invitation to join her at a club in Tomas Morato.

He arrives expecting, at the very least, an evening in the company of the woman who has been occupying his Instagram notifications.

Instead, he discovers the guest list.

There are men everywhere.

Not two or three. Not even a respectable handful. More than a dozen, all apparently summoned through variations of the same digital charm offensive. They are gathered around a comparatively small table, with only a few women among them. A move similar to how pyramid scheme participants are recruited.

And then, like clockwork, the bottles arrive.

Expensive bottles. Near top-shelf ones. The sort that photograph beautifully beneath nightclub lights and look even more impressive once posted to Instagram Stories.

Our queen gets her content. Her girlfriends get their drinks. The gentlemen get increasingly acquainted with one another.

Then the queen takes to the dance floor with her friends. Only returning to refill their glasses.

Romance, it seems, has left the building.

The men remain at the table, nursing their drinks and, perhaps, their expectations. Those who recognize the arrangement early enough decide to leave.

A sensible choice.

Except that the following morning brings another surprise.

A message.

A bill.

And, naturally, a GCash number.

The gentlemen are informed of the amount they are expected to contribute toward the evening’s bottles.

How wonderfully modern.

Once upon a time, a gentleman might court a lady with flowers and dinner. Today, apparently, he can court her by helping finance her bottle service — provided he remembers to check the fine print.

And so, dear reader, the lesson is rather simple.

When a beauty queen slides into your DMs, by all means, enjoy the attention.

But perhaps ask one question before heading to her club invitation.

“Am I the date — or am I the table?”