Many years ago, I met a guy on a Monday night for something casual (don't judge, I was young, hot and daft). Had a great night, snogged his face off etc.
We agreed to Friday/Saturday night together. For a bit of fun and to save the awkwardness of splitting bills, he would book and pay for a hotel on the Friday, I would do the same for Saturday.
I booked an exec room at the Hilton. He did not.
Turns out he'd booked the Britannia Sacha, which is famous for being one of the UKs worst hotels, often frequented by working girls.
I was incredibly attracted to him, but I couldn't get over how disgusting and dirty the room was. No windows, so it was like a sauna and it stank. We'd had a little fool about on the bed but the spark had completely gone. I got up and asked him about it and he seemed completely oblivious. "It was only £35 quid!" he shrugged.
I told him I'd booked the Hilton and he said "Oh, well grab your stuff and I'll get us a room there." So he wasn't even skint, and that somehow made it worse. I made an excuse that I was feeling ill which he clearly knew was bullshit, but still walked me to my cab, bless him.