Who pays the bill when you're tired

It was one of those evenings where the conversation had wound down, but no one was quite ready to leave. The plates were cleared, and the silence that followed wasn't awkward, just heavy. I glanced at my phone, then at the bill sitting in the middle of the table. It was late, and the thought of figuring out who owed what felt like a mountain to climb.

The quiet moment of hesitation

Someone would usually take charge, but tonight, everyone just looked a bit worn out. I could see my friend checking the time, then looking back at the bill, hesitating. We all knew the math wasn't hard. It was the mental energy to start the process that was missing.It wasn't about the money, not really. It was about fairness, and not wanting anyone to feel like they got the short end of the stick after such a nice time. But in that tired silence, fairness felt complicated. Proposing to split it felt like initiating a chore.

Letting something else decide

That's when I remembered the wheel I sometimes use for smaller things, like choosing what to cook. It felt silly for a second, applying it to this. But the alternative was more silent calculation, or someone just sighing and grabbing their card to end the standoff.I pulled it up on my phone. "What if we just let this pick?" I said, not really as a question, more thinking out loud. There was a collective, almost relieved shrug. No one objected. It was a way out of the decision fatigue that had settled over the table.

A list of simple names

I just typed in everyone's first names. No amounts, no calculations. Just the people who were there. It was the simplest possible list.

The relief of a resolved thing

The spin felt slower than usual. For a second, I wondered if this was too trivial. But then it landed. The person it picked just nodded, pulled out their card, and gave a tired smile. "Alright, my turn. You all get me next time."And that was it. The tension, that low hum of indecision, just evaporated. We settled the rest—tipping, getting the receipt—without any friction. The wheel didn't make it fair in the accounting sense. But it made it fair in the moment, because we all agreed to its randomness. We could all leave feeling like the burden was shared, even if the bill wasn't.