Currently listening to: Blank Space – Taylor Swift
So it’s gonna be foreverOr it’s gonna go down in flamesYou can tell me when it’s over, mmIf the high was worth the painGot a long list of ex loversThey’ll tell you I’m insane‘Cause you know I love the playersAnd you love the game‘Cause we’re young and we’re recklessWe’ll take this way too farIt’ll leave you breathless, mmOr with a nasty scar
It all began with simple notification: “You look too cute to be on here.” Instantly, NGL, I was intrigued. Was this just another rizzler or did he genuinely mean it. I met him through a dating app. Admittedly, when I first glanced at his profile, I didn’t feel an instant spark. He wasn’t exactly my type, but perhaps that was the problem. I was determined to broaden my perspective and branch out of my preference. Maybe he would surprise me, and maybe I’d be pleasantly…shocked?
Our conversation flowed rather well – filled with wit and laughter, which caught me off guard for a moment. Could this be the beginning of a new adventure? After exchanging a few more DMs, I fell asleep.
A few things about him: he was several years older than me, Pakistani, ED physician, 5’10”, had a slight British accent, and is exponentially cocky.
We finally decided to meet at Denny’s before my shift started; it seemed like the ideal choice. I could get my grand slam breakfast while being in a very public restaurant that cops frequented all the time. My plate had eggs, pancake, and of course bacon. That’s when he started talking and talking….and talking incessantly. Throughout our conversation, I could feel his horror as I gleefully indulged in my extra crispy bacon. In between mouthfuls, I’d throw a question or two, laughing internally. By the end of our breakfast “date”, he casually proposed taking me to dinner later that week. And to sweeten the deal, coffee for dessert. How could I resist? Coffee is life.
When we walked out to our cars, he pointed to his car, a black BMW 5 series (IDK what kind) and it had a license plate cover from Harvard Medical School. Yeah, he’s like that.
A few days later:
It began as a sophisticated evening eating copious amounts of chicken wings – yes, super classy, I know. But as my date’s chatter transformed into a constant drone, I couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss. What he professed at breakfast seemed entirely different than his dinner conversation.
I decided to focus on not just his words but also his body language. It was an exhausting analytical exercise of sorts, as I picked apart every little gesture. As the casual laughter continued, my mind was racing – the way he leaned in, gestured widely to emphasize his points, was starting to feel more like he was putting on a performance than having a sincere conversation. Major sus.
With each passing moment, I felt my unease grow. My instinct was screaming at me; I was hyperaware of the hairs rising on the back of my neck. While my heart raced, a smile plastered on my face…masking my true feelings. I had no intention of letting him know that my sense of comfort was deteriorating and that I was onto him. I didn’t know what he was capable of and I definitely did not feel like getting assaulted or kidnapped either. I needed to stay cool…
When we finally parted ways, I gave him a side hug and thanked him for the delicious food. As the cool night air wrapped around us, he expressed concern about me having to drive back home so late. He offered to follow me home to ensure that I got home safely. I told him that it was not necessary and that I was an exceptional driver. As I was heading home, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched, like a covert mission. I made a couple of pit stops, took the toll road, and blew a red light – in case he was following me.
He texted later that night saying that I looked beautiful and he was happy that I wasn’t like the typical California platinum digging girls. I messaged him that I was feeling tired and that I needed to go to sleep. As I was lying in bed, I replayed our conversations over and over again. At breakfast his mother was deceased but by dinner she was miraculously alive. Additionally, he went from owning eight cars to nine. The number of properties he owned did not align either. What the fuckity fuck?
So there I was, in this rabbit hole googling his phone number and e-mail address, but found nothing. Then I googled everything about him that I could remember…and little did I know, my search would uncover a web of deceit that spanned several years and states (Massachusetts, Arizona, and California). What I found made my skin crawl. There was a website with over 20 women complaining that they were swindled by this dude.
He seemed charming enough but he was a master manipulator. His crimes ranged from extorting money after soliciting nudes to introducing women to his “aunt” who allegedly had investing schemes that promised to double their money. One woman shared that he had been threatening her for years and that he knew that she was now engaged and was going to e-mail them to her fiancé and his family if she didn’t send him more money. Spoiler alert: they never saw that money again. Some of them lost five to six figures and were downright pissed off. Oh yeah, he was also not a doctor. Surprise, surprise. The women reported him to the police and prosecutors offices but there was no follow up. For fucks sakes…what the fuck?
The next morning he texted me but I ignored him. He bombarded me with texts throughout the day. Normally, I would have disabled my Google number but I had other dudes I was dating and still messaging from that number. It wasn’t until later that night I decided to respond to him.
Him: Miss you love
Me: You lied to me
Him: About what?
Me: Everything
Him: What do you mean?
Him: Love. Take my word please and I will explain everything to you in person. I promise I haven’t lied
Him: I swear on my head
Him: Please meet me tomw night
Me: I don’t want to see you
Him: I like you and care for you. Please meet me tomw. I promise I didn’t do anything wrong. Please
Him: Can you not see me tomw?
Him: ?
Me: No
Him: I wish you could. I would explain. I am sorry
Him: I shouldn’t contact you?
Me: Never
Him: Ok.
The next day, I told my friends the situation, one is a therapist and the other is a homicide detective. They both strongly urged me to contact the authorities because he needed to be stopped. I thought about it for a minute and agreed. He needed to be stopped. This wasn’t right.
I contacted Boston PD, Maricopa PD and county attorney’s office, and the local authorities here in California. They all responded and requested that I send any additional information that I may have. I sent them the website links that the women were writing about him, his dating profile, his license plate number, snaps of him that he sent me before we met, and which toll roads we used (date/time, when we went to get chicken) so they could pull footage from there too.
Weeks rolled by without any word from the police, leaving me to wonder if my findings were too insignificant to matter? Then one of my friends sent me a link to a news article about him being arrested for multiple felonies. I could NOT contain my excitement. He was caught…finally.
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