The Man Who Spent 15 Years Chasing Down the Bad Guys — And Now Needs Someone to Fight for Him

Brandon has spent the last 15 years in fintech.

Twelve of those years were dedicated to one mission: stop the bad guys.

Fraudsters. Scammers. Digital thieves.

People who prey on the vulnerable. People who think “faceless” means “victimless.”

Brandon made it his job to stop them.

Quietly. Relentlessly. Without glory. Without headlines.

He didn’t just work in fraud prevention.

He worked in protection.

And in the last three years, that protection had a name: preschool teachers.

At his last role with Brightwheel, Brandon worked to ensure that the very people helping raise and educate our children wouldn’t wake up to overdraft alerts, identity theft, or wiped-out savings. He wasn’t just building systems. He was building trust.

But this January, Brandon was laid off.

Not because of poor performance.

Not because he didn’t deliver.

But because the company had to make a tough call—and like too many others, they made it with a spreadsheet.

Brandon did what many of us have done this year.

He took a deep breath and started again.

He opened job boards, updated his résumé, and began applying.

But Brandon didn’t just apply here and there.

He made it a full-time job.

Five applications a day, five days a week—minimum.

Often, more than double that.

By now, he’s applied to hundreds.

He’s made it to 13 interviews.

Nine of those? Final rounds.

Two are still active—one with a promising lead.

And yet… time is running out.

Brandon’s unemployment benefits run out at the end of July.

He and his wife bought their home three years ago.

They’ve got two dogs. A literal white picket fence. The American dream.

And right now, it’s all hanging by a thread.

This isn’t just about needing a job.

This is about not knowing what happens if he doesn’t get one.

About staring down a future that shouldn’t look like this for someone who has done everything right.

Brandon is not lazy.

He is not underqualified.

He is not entitled.

He’s desperate. And exhausted. And still showing up every day with integrity.

Let me tell you what else he’s holding onto—because this part matters:

Brandon wants to leave the world better than he found it.

He wants his next job to mean something.

And one day, when he retires, he wants to be “That Guy.”

You know the one:

The teammate everyone goes to.

The one who’s been around long enough to know the system inside and out.

The guy who’s calm under pressure and kind in chaos.

The one who doesn’t gatekeep—but gives.

That’s who Brandon wants to be.

And honestly? That’s exactly who he already is.

He just needs someone to see it.

Because what we’re doing right now—ghosting good people, dragging them through five rounds of interviews only to send templated rejections, choosing “culture fit” over capability—it’s not working.

We are bleeding out the best of the best because we’re too afraid to hire people who already know how to lead.

People like Brandon.

Let me be clear:

This man has protected millions in assets.

He’s led risk mitigation programs that safeguarded entire user bases.

He’s handled complex fraud cases, managed teams, responded to threats, and stayed ahead of emerging fraud patterns—all while treating his coworkers and customers like people, not tickets.

He’s not asking for handouts.

He’s asking for a chance.

And if your company works in fintech, SaaS, fraud prevention, trust & safety, compliance, operations—you want Brandon in the room.

Because when things go wrong, you don’t need buzzwords.

You need someone who’s already been through the fire and came out stronger.

You need a steady hand. A clear thinker. Someone who can build, rebuild, and protect.

Someone who knows the stakes—and still chooses to care.

Brandon is one of the good ones.

And right now, he’s the one who needs help.

So I’m asking—if you’re reading this and you can help?

Share this post.

Tag a hiring manager.

Open a door.

Be the person who says, “I know a guy.”

Because Brandon doesn’t just need a job.

He needs a lifeline.

And honestly?

He’s earned it.