I met a man online and agreed to have dinner with him. At first, he seemed charming—well-dressed, polite, even bringing me my coffee with a smile. Still, something in the way he watched me felt unsettling, though I tried to blame it on first-date nerves. As we talked, a waitress approached with a tray, but suddenly stumbled and spilled the coffee across our table.
The hot liquid splashed onto my date’s sleeve, and his expression instantly darkened. He slammed his fist on the table and yelled at her so loudly the entire restaurant stopped to stare. I sat frozen, shocked at how quickly his calm demeanor had turned into explosive anger. The waitress apologized, but her eyes met mine with a strange urgency I couldn’t understand.
The rest of the meal was painfully quiet. When we finally stood to leave, the waitress passed by me and whispered, barely audible, “I did it on purpose. He brings women here every week. You’re not the first—and it never ends well. Be careful.” A chill ran through me.
Her “accident” had been a warning. I left shaken but thankful. That night, I blocked his number and deleted his profile, realizing I might have narrowly avoided something dangerous. Sometimes, strangers see the truth before we do. And sometimes, a spilled cup of coffee is more than an accident—it’s a message.