I needed to see what he’d try.
I prepped my place—one light on, cozy blanket out. Purse hidden. Laptop at my sister’s. Nothing valuable in sight.
He arrived with a cheap bottle of wine, acting like everything was normal.
Ten minutes in, he mentioned his “bad week,” how his “car registration got messed up,” and how he “might need a place to crash for a few nights.” Said it like a joke. But I knew it wasn’t.
I played along. “Oh wow, that sucks.”
He leaned closer. “You’re so chill. Hard to find girls like you.”
I stood up.
“I know who you are, Marvin.”
His face dropped.
I didn’t yell. Just stared. And in that silence, something shifted.
He stood, shrugged. “You got me. Whatever.”
Then he left. No fight. No excuses. Just gone.
Two days later, I got a DM from a girl:
“Hey… did you go on a date with a guy named Deacon? I think he played me too.”
We met up. Then another girl joined. Then another.
We shared stories, screenshots, receipts.
Turns out, he’d done this to at least nine women in our city.
We reported him. But there wasn’t enough “proof,” they said.
So we did something else.
We started a private group chat. Just us. We shared names, watched out for each other, warned new girls before it was too late.
I never expected that from a bad date.
But here’s what I learned:
Sometimes a warning isn’t just for you—it’s a signal to protect others.
That waitress didn’t owe me anything. But she saw something and acted.
Now? So do I.
If you’ve ever had a gut feeling—trust it.
If you’ve ever been played, lied to, or used—it’s not your fault.
You’re not alone.
And your story might help someone else feel less alone.
❤️
If this hit home, share it. You never know who needs the warning.
