The evening started easily enough. My date introduced himself as Deacon, and we met at a restaurant he said he liked. Conversation flowed, though I noticed he spoke more about himself than anything else. Still, I brushed it off as nerves.
When the bill came, the waitress looked at him and said quietly, “Sir, your card was declined.” He went pale. I expected embarrassment, but before I could react, she slipped the receipt into my hand and whispered, “I lied.”
The Waitress’s Warning
Continue reading…
