Well, not really. I'm the guy Doug left hanging after I generously loaned him $200,000.
Let me take you on a rollercoaster ride through this wild tale of trust, betrayal, and canned cocktails.
Our story starts in an exclusive business mastermind group. You know, the kind filled with highly successful folks full of integrity. It was through a member of that group, that I first crossed paths with Doug. He had a business idea as intriguing as his charm – Beach Drinks, canned cocktails. He needed that two hundred grand to score a sweet deal on bulk pricing from his co-packer.
I found myself in Atlanta, eyeballing his production facility and sipping on his concoctions. They weren't exactly world-class, but hey, I've seen worse stuff fly off liquor store shelves. So, with a thumbs-up from yours truly, Doug's business dreams were off to the races.
Now, I wasn't born yesterday. I'd done my homework. I'd seen enough barroom drama to know that the alcohol biz can be a real gold mine when done right. So, I decided to play venture capitalist for a day and gave Doug the loan, with a 25% interest rate to sweeten the deal. What could possibly go wrong, right?
But then, as they say, the plot thickens. When August 20th rolled around, I thought it was payday, so I kindly sent Doug the wiring instructions. He called me up and said, "I thought I had until September 15th." My heart dropped. This wasn't the first time Doug tried to deceive me. Halfway through the loan period, he had the audacity to ask for more cash. The pit in my stomach? It was practically a black hole by now.
I, being the stand-up guy I am, stuck to our original agreement, burying my suspicions for later. September 15th arrives, and that's when the fireworks start. Doug spun me a yarn about wires, ACH transfers, and bank mysteries that even Sherlock Holmes couldn't solve.
Enough was enough. I drove down, and confronted Doug face-to-face. To catch him, I suggested we meet at the bank and get things sorted. Doug? He tried to steer me to a different bank in Pensacola. But I wasn't having it. We had a date with destiny, with the banker in Gulf Breeze who handled the ACH transfer. Doug knew the jig was up.
So, we met at a hotel, and I even tried recording our conversation. But Doug threatened to clam up if I kept the recorder on, so I reluctantly obliged.
You know what he did? He confessed to all the lies!
For two hours, he performed a one-man show, delivering an Oscar-worthy act.
Earlier, he told me he'd wired the money, now admitting that he hadn't. Then he said it was an ACH transfer and would arrive in a couple of days – spoiler alert: it didn't. Next, he claimed the bank needed to pull the money back. I'm no banking expert, but that's not how banks work, is it?
Trying to bide my time as I sought legal counsel we came to a new arrangement. Doug vowed to repay me in $50,000 monthly installments, starting on October 13th.
As the fateful day neared, I called Doug, and he dodged my calls and texted more lies. He finally told me he was walking into the bank, and I would have the wire in 20 minutes. It never came.
And that's why we're here. I've created this website, sharing this tale of woe for anyone who might stumble upon Doug's name in the future. Trust is a delicate thing, like a house of cards in a windstorm, and I'm hoping that this story serves as a cautionary tale for anyone considering doing business with him. Cheers to lessons learned, the hard way.