Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 10x01: Valentine Horrors - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: February 13, 2023Stories in this episode: - Cade, by Dannie_Quinn04 (0:49) - Valentine's Night Encounter at Lone Beach, by AmericanRaider76 (9:24) - Creepy Valentine Caller, by Emma (15:24) - Weird Guy on Valenti...ne's Day, by Fallingsphere07 (20:39) - Fake Kidnapping Around Valentine's Day, by CCTxgirl68 (26:27) - My Scariest Tinder Date, by Lyss (35:30) - I Had Tea with a Murderer, by kittlebean (45:58) Extended Patreon Content: - The Scary Dude, by Anonymous - Creepy Voyeur, by Tori - Tales from BART, by Chloe - Pushy Bumble Match, by Jackie - Stalked by My Old Coworker, by Haley - Max, by Beth All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com.  Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Welcome to Paradise (It Sucks), and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts! Go to grammarly.com/tone to download and learn more about Grammarly Premium’s advanced tone suggestions. Get a 4-week trial, free postage, and a digital scale at stamps.com/meet. Thanks to Stamps.com for sponsoring the show! Right now, Stitch Fix is offering my listeners $20 off their first fix at StitchFix.com/MEET. Download SmartNews for free today in the app store to get the news that matters most. Search for it in the Apple App store for your iPhone or iPad, or Google Play store for Android users.
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Las comunidades negras e ispanas se vende especorcionalmente afectadas por la enfermedad de las células falsiformes,
una enfermedad devastadora que puede provocar anemia, fatiga, crisis de dolor, insuficiencia en diversos órganos,
y muerte prematura.
Un nuevo estudio de investigación ofrece el potencial para luchar contra la enfermedad de células falsiformas.
Visite ruby-scd-stary.com para obtener más información sobre una opción de tratamiento en investigación
para la enfermedad de células falsiformes.
El estudio ahora está reclutando personas de 18 a 50 años.
En Dallas, visite ruby-scd-stary.com.
This podcast contains adult language and content.
If you have a story to share, send it
to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
Enjoy the show.
My name is Andrew Tate, and this is season 10 episode 1 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror podcast. Enjoy the show. This started when I was in sixth grade, and I am now a senior in high school.
I still have anxiety from this experience which lasted for five years.
Looking back on my younger self, I was very quiet.
I was naive.
Everybody is usually excited when they go into middle school.
It's a sign that you're growing up.
Your parents began to lessen up on
the babysitting, and for some reason, it's the time when you get your first cell phone.
In my case, a tiny blue flip phone. I remember on my first day of middle school, I was anxiety
stricken and shaking like a leaf. I walked into class and sat down. This class was a class that everybody
had to take that involved manners and treating people right.
Across from me was a boy who will call Cade. My first thought when I saw Cade was that he
looked a bit like a weasel, and although that was pretty unkind, it was true. He was very skinny and had a long pointed nose, and when
he smiled, he revealed small, pointy teeth. He had short, gelled up hair and wore glasses,
making his eyes even smaller and be dear than the norm. He wore champion sneakers, which
at the time, weren't cool. He also carried a Walmart backpack along with a clarinet case. Cade was
sitting alone, and so was I, because I didn't have any other friends in that class, so I decided
to befriend him. This was mistake number one. About a month into the school year, I found
out that he was three years older than the average
sixth grader at the time, but I didn't think that that was weird. He saw me pull a pack
of gum out of my backpack and began to ask me for gum every single day. It became almost
like a routine. I would go home, asking my mom for a fresh pack every three days. She
began to notice this and asked me why I was going
through gum so fast. I told her about Cade, and how he always asked me for some gum, and
I didn't know how to say no. She told me to kindly tell him that I only had a couple
of pieces left, and I didn't feel like sharing. So that's when I did. The next day, when
he asked me for gum, I told him no, and he got mad.
I could see his little ears getting red, and angry tears filled his eyes as he malved,
fuck you.
I'll admit that should have been a huge red flag, but again, I was young and naive.
We remained friends, I say friends with quotes, throughout sixth grade, then in seventh grade,
it took a very awkward turn.
I would go to the library every morning and sit by myself to read whichever young adult
novel caught my attention that week.
However, one day, when I went to the library, it was different.
Instead of sitting down and reading, I was browsing the shelves with my friend, we'll
call her Leah.
Considering that it was the middle of school, the shelves were extremely short, so I had
a straight line of sight to the door.
I watched as Cade came in, carrying his clarinet case, walking at a brisk pace.
His eyes scanned the library until he found me.
I quickly looked away, hoping that he wasn't in the library just to talk to me.
And if he was, how did he know that I would be here?
Had he been watching me?
He had already seen me, and he was headed in my direction, clearly determined to do something.
Hey, can I talk to you? He asked in a high-pitched voice. I nodded my head and looked back at Leah,
as Cade pulled me away. He led me over to an aisle of non-fiction books, away from prying eyes in a corner. He stood in front of me, blocking
me from leaving, and whispered slowly, his eyes unblinking.
Will you go out with me on a date?"
Immediately I said no. I looked down at the front of my blue jeans, his eyes were lingering
for way too long. I guess he saw the outline of my flip phone in my front pocket because
next he asked, then how about I get your cell phone number.
Remaining polite, I said, now I can't, this phone is only for me to call my parents if
there's an emergency, sorry. I definitely shouldn't have been as polite as I was. I should
have told him that I wasn't interested in him, and that he needed to leave me the
fuck alone, but I didn't, and I regret it.
Fast forward to the next school year.
Thankfully Cade and I didn't have any classes together, so it was mostly smooth sailing.
We were both in BAN, so we would see each other at marching practices,
but during concert season, I was in the honors band, and he was in the lower tier band,
giving me a little buffer away from him. But that stopped as soon as freshman year of high
school rolled in. We had geography together, and we sat right next to each other, due to the assigned seating
chart. I was on the left and he was sitting on the right. It was the perfect angle for him to
copy my work, word for word. I tried to cover my paper as I worked, and if I did, he would ask
me for answers. Unable to stand up for myself, I always said, yeah, sure. Any time that we had to stand up during a fire drill, when we had presentations,
if we went to the library during class, well, he would stand as close to me as possible.
Most days he would get close enough to smell me, and would let me know how good he thought
that I smelled. He always walked right on my
heels. A kid you not. I could constantly feel this dude's breath on my neck, and any time
I tried to subtly inch away, he would inch right along with me. The last straw from me
happened sophomore year. We had a history class together, and he continued to do the same exact things.
Still standing far too close and still cheating off of my work.
Not to mention, he had snuck his way into my friend group and begun dating my best friend.
Now, this was all around Valentine's Day.
Kade had apparently been telling everyone around the school that he made a list of people he liked,
and he wanted to cross some people off of his two date list.
I, of course, was number one and my best friend whom he was dating at the time,
was a few spots below me. He would also express to his friends that he was planning to give me a poem
that he wrote along with the Rose. This poem was written to
confess that he was in love with me and he wanted to be with me.
When I heard about this I lied to Kate. I told him that I had a boyfriend who was a freshman
in college. He seemed upset and tried to convince me to take the Valentine's gift that he
had for me but I refused. I was repulsed by the fact that he even thought to be so forward, especially since he was
dating my best friend, plus I never gave him any signs that I was even remotely interested.
I haven't seen Kate since COVID hit, and we had to attend school remotely.
He tried to email me through our school district's email, but I ignored him, hoping that he would
get the message. I guess he did because he hasn't tried contacting me since. Even after
regular school resumed, I haven't seen him walking the hallways and hope that it stays
that way.
Cade, I don't know where you went or who the next prey on your two date list is, but
I hope that we never meet again, and if we do, I'm not the same
quiet person that I once was. And all the men who take politeness as a sign that women are interested,
most of the time we are not. Please stop putting women in uncomfortable situations and don't take
advantage of those of us who are quieter in nature.
This story took place back in 2016 on Valentine's Day. I took my girlfriend at the time out
to dinner. Then, after dinner, I drove us to the beach.
I always love walking on the beach, especially at night time because of the atmosphere, the
quietness, the calmness, and the sense of peace.
But this night wasn't like the others.
I parked my car in a part of the parking lot that hardly anyone parks in due to how far away it is from the pier, the lighthouse, and other sites that you would see on the beach.
I preferred parking here this time because it was Valentine's. This would give us the privacy that we wanted.
I parked in reverse so that we were facing the long road that we drove along to get to this secluded part of this parking lot. I also want to add that the lot is on a small
decline, with a slight slope to get down into the lot. My girlfriend and I were
listening to music and I was telling her some scary stories that I found on
Reddit and YouTube. We were therefore for about 30 minutes, when out on the road above
and in front of us. We saw the headlights of a truck quickly driving towards us. At first,
I wasn't alarmed by this because I knew plenty of people who sped down that road since
cop cars were rarely on it. But my heart skipped a beat when I saw the truck. It wasn't slowing down, and it was about to enter the area that we were parked in.
I swear that that truck was in mid-air for just a few moments, since they didn't slow
down to drive down the slope.
I told my girlfriend to get down in her seat.
I did so as well.
I didn't want the driver to see us in the car. I got my keys ready
to put into the ignition, just in case the truck was going to stop in front of us. I've
seen plenty of horror movies, and I've read many stories. I didn't want my girlfriend
and me to be anyone's next victim at Lovers Lane.
The truck zoomed past us and parked crooked nearest to where the sand on the
beach starts, about 50 yards away from us. Immediately three men jumped out of the truck and all of them ran
directly into the water, shouting loudly. Since it was nine in the evening, they disappeared into the
darkness. For reference, the parking lot is about 100
yards from the shoreline. It was quiet again. So, my girlfriend and I finally took a breath
of fresh air. But no more than 5 seconds later, the three men jumped back into the truck
and again sped away, never to be seen. My girlfriend and I had enough scares for one
night, so we drove away as well.
The next day at work, I told one of my co-workers this story during lunch, and she pulled out
her phone to see if there was anything posted about the beach online, and she immediately
found an article.
This article said, a man was stabbed on Valentine's Night on the pier. According to the police, the incident happened
at about 9.15 in the evening. The victim was a 20-year-old oxenard man. Police said the victim was
attacked by three men. I have no doubt that the men in that truck were responsible. The only reason
why I didn't contact the police is that at that time in my life, I didn't
know anything about cars, and I knew I couldn't give that simple information to the police.
Also, just to add, since it was so dark in that parking lot, I couldn't even see the
men's faces or any other key descriptors that they had.
My theory for why the men drove out to that desolate area of the parking lot was to run
through a quiet part of the beach to wash off any evidence linking them to the attack. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for
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On Valentine's Day in 2010, I was woken up by a call from an unlisted number at 730 in the morning.
I was a sophomore in high school at the time, so getting a call that early was very rare,
especially on a Sunday. The outlet in my room was directly behind my bed, so my phone was plugged
in and ringing from under the
covers.
I'm not much of a texture, so I always try to answer phone calls.
So while still laying down, I lazily pressed the accept button to take the call and pressed
the phone against my ear.
Still half asleep, I groggily said, hello?
The voice on the other end of the line said,
Hi, baby.
It's Valentine's Day.
At this time, I had been dating a boy at my school for around a year.
He was funny and popular, so because of this, our relationship was somewhat high profile
around our school.
The voice on the line just didn't sound like my boyfriend, but when I asked who it was,
the guy said my boyfriend's name.
I asked why he didn't sound like himself, and he said that it was because he was calling
me from under his covers so as not to be overheard by his dad.
I hung up.
I then called my boyfriend and he didn't answer.
Seconds later, this unlisted number called me again.
He told me that his phone was broken, and he wasn't able to answer calls.
He explained that this was why his number came up without a caller ID.
I was still disoriented from being woken up, but was feeling more comfortable
that the caller was indeed my boyfriend, fully believing that his phone was broken.
I understood he was speaking in a hushed voice to avoid being roused by his parents.
I settled into the conversation, catching him up with my night, school gossip, and homework.
We circled to the topic of Valentine's Day.
At first we spoke abstractly about the love that we shared and childishly fantasized about
our future together.
Then my boyfriend began to spice up the conversation.
He started talking to me about our sex life, with this swav
confidence that I didn't recognize in my 17-year-old partner. He asked me what I was wearing,
requested that I describe my underwear to him. At this point, I'm now fully awake.
I was shy and new to sex, unprepared to voice any sort of desire, much less participate in
the brazen phone sex that he was attempting to initiate.
Hoping to please, I remember telling him that I was wearing white, cotton underwear,
covered in a red heart pattern.
Honestly, I was way outside my comfort zone.
You know where teenagers often find themselves?
Suddenly, I was receiving an incoming call.
One second, I said, excusing myself.
I pulled the phone away from my ear to see who was calling.
I felt the jolt of terror, as I saw that the incoming call was from my boyfriend.
I immediately hung up on the unknown caller and answered frantically.
My boyfriend told me that he was returning my phone call and asked if there was something
wrong.
His voice sounded as it always did and was clear as day.
I asked if he somehow made the other call to me, but he told me that he had just
woken up. I cried and I felt completely violated. I told him what happened. I got out of bed
and went downstairs to strut. My dad immediately jumped up from the kitchen table. He asked
what was wrong. I was completely humiliated. I told him about the call, attempting to skirt
around how far the conversation with the stranger had gone, but about the call, attempting to skirt around how far the
conversation with the stranger had gone, but in the end, my dad got the gist.
How did this creep get my number? How did he know enough details about my boyfriend to
impersonate him? My dad and I went on Facebook and saw that, in my naivety, I had listed
my phone number on my account for anyone to see.
My dad and I spent the morning wiping my account of any personal information and tightening
the security settings.
I have a feeling it was someone from my high school who called me that morning.
As I passed the faces in the hallways and sat with male friends at lunch I couldn't
help but wonder,
which of these boys was the sicko who had pulled one over on me.
To this day, I am enraged when imagining this boy's feeling of smug anonymity, having
never been caught.
So to the stranger who prayed on a sleepy 16 year old, let's never meet.
About two years ago, I was shopping for a Valentine's gift from my girlfriend since I thought
it would be a nice gesture.
The walk to the store, from where I live, is about a 10-minute walk.
It was around 8 at night, so I was ready to make a quick run to the store and get back
home.
I was walking on the road because they were next to no vehicles driving down the road,
and I didn't feel like walking through the park.
I was approaching the park when I realized I
was being followed. I didn't think anything of it at first so I just kept on walking. Then there was a
guy walking behind me. He picked up his pace and got a bit closer. While I was continuing to walk ahead, I heard, hey kid, I was shocked and I wanted to ignore
him, so I didn't stop walking.
He repeated once more, hey kid, but this time it was a bit more aggressive, so I turned
around and this guy was within pissing distance from me.
I'm 6'1 and this man was a bit taller than me. He caught up to me
a bit, then tried to strike up a conversation. He asked, how's your night? I felt a bit
relieved and kind of thought poorly of myself for judging him so quickly. I was right to
assume though. He then tried to keep the conversation going. He proceeded to ask, where are you going?
Wanting to be vague, I just said, to the store.
He then approached a random car parked on the road.
He said, I can give you a ride.
I replied, no thank you, I can walk from here.
He kept insisting to give me a ride.
And then he asked,
what about car surfing? Now, I didn't know what this was. He tried to show me what it was,
but I still declined. This guy was really starting to creep me out. I was still walking down the road
while this whole encounter was happening. He just kept following me. Thankfully I reached to the store, and he finally
left me alone, momentarily. I went inside the store, and I bought a heart-shaped box
of chocolates and a teddy bear for my girlfriend, then started to walk back home.
Then I saw the guy again. It was weird he was following me from the other side of the street. He waited for me to
come walking by again. This was starting to scare me a bit. He then yelled out, hey,
and I became full-on scared in that moment. To elaborate a little more on this guy, he
was about six-five and weighed a lot more than me. I hesitantly turned around. Now this guy was starting
to jog his way over to me. Then I noticed something was definitely off. The car that was
supposedly his was gone, which to me meant that he was not alone. I acted oblivious
like I didn't know that the car was gone. He then tried starting
into the conversation. I was really uncomfortable during our first conversation that he and
I had, so I said, I really need to get back. I started walking a bit faster, making sure
to choose the fastest route home, which is through an alley.
When I walked down the alley, I looked over my shoulder and
I realized that he was gone and I was thankful. But I continued to walk down the alley, and
I saw the same car that he was claiming was his own.
Luckily I got home soon after saying that car on the road again. When I returned home,
I wanted to see if I could find out more about this guy. I searched online for something about him, but there wasn't anything.
I reported the details about where I saw the car just in case, but I never found out if
law enforcement found the car or the guy.
But I hope I never have to deal with him again. Don't let the summer heat bake in road grime any longer, hand to your nearby Zips Carwash
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I'm 54 now, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
Here's a little backstory.
So you can understand the dynamics of the situation.
My mom and her partner were two of the strongest women I knew.
It was the early 80s, and they were an openly lesbian couple raising me and my
younger brother, and a quiet suburb of Oklahoma City. It was February, almost Valentine's
Day, and it had recently snowed. So on this particular morning I was stalling because
I didn't want to stand at the cold-ass bus stop to go to school. My mom's partner had already left for work,
and my mom was gripping at me, not wanting me to miss the bus. But as I was shuffling out the door,
I saw the bus go by. I turned around and apologized to my mom for missing the bus.
She cursed under her breath, but picked up the phone and called the neighbor to check and see if
my brother could catch her right to school with them since she had to drive me in
the opposite direction.
My brother was about six at the time and a latch key kid, so he was pretty responsible.
My mom and I got into the car and went off.
The roads were horrible.
I since sludge were everywhere, but we finally made it to my school.
Of course, I was late, and I was missing a test in my first class.
My teacher tried to give me grief, but I could really care less.
I was more worried about my mom getting to work.
About 15 minutes into class, I got a note to come down to the office. My teacher was pissed since
I was disrupting her class for a second time within a 15 minute period. The note said
that there was an emergency so she had no choice but to excuse me. I asked the office aide
what was going on. She shrugged and walked me to the office. I wasn't a bad kid, so for me to get called to the office was
unsettling, to say the least. But what came next, rocked my world. My brother's school had called
my school for two reasons, first, to make sure that I was there and second to get information about
my mom and where she worked. They had tried her work number, but it was too early for anyone to be there, considering
that they didn't open until 9 and it was about 8.30.
I asked why they were needing my mom and asked if my brother was okay when I was informed
of a very disturbing phone call my brother had received before he went to the neighbors
to get a ride to school.
My six-year-old brother picked up the phone, and there was a man who said that he had our
mom.
He told my brother what our mom was wearing and what kind of car she drove.
He then said that he waited until I was dropped at fat school before taking my mom.
My little brother ran to our neighbor's house in a panic, crying uncontrollably.
Of course, the kid's father calmed my brother down and took him to school since he knew
that the school had all the important phone numbers on file.
Plus, the school would know how to handle the situation better than he could.
I've always been good under pressure, and I
don't fall apart, but at 13, I was understandably shaken. I tried calling all of the numbers
that I had for my mom and her partner, but with the roads being as bad as they were, and
with everybody moving so slowly, it was tough getting a hold of anyone. Once we called
my mom's work and left a message for my mom to call both schools and after
the police were called, I was sent back to class.
Thank God the second period class bell had rung and I didn't have to face my angry teacher
from the first class.
I was an emotional wreck as I explained to my teacher that there was a family emergency
that I was in the middle of experiencing.
I asked if I could take the test that I missed during lunch. I knew I couldn't concentrate
well enough to take a test, but I never got that chance since another office aid showed
up, needing me in the office again. I was scared to death, but tried to remain calm.
As I stepped into the office, my mom called the school.
Hearing her voice was the best thing I had ever heard in my very young life.
She was fine.
She was about to head to my brother's school.
Then come get me.
But she needed to speak to the police first.
I told her I loved her and I would see her soon.
Attempting to remain calm, I headed back to my class.
But on the way there, I saw
a policeman heading my way. He asked me for my name. I lost control. I collapsed on the
floor and started crying hysterically.
I knew the two most important people in the world were safe, and I had already spoken
to the police earlier during my first visit to the office.
The officer was just coming to inform me and the school of the information that we already had.
He proceeded to give me a hard time
about me losing it the way that I did.
I told him that I was entitled to this meltdown
considering that all that had happened in one morning
and he could talk to my principal.
Then I continued to class.
My mom showed up around lunchtime to get me, and we went to stay with a friend for a long
weekend.
Later that night, my mom told me the rest of the story.
My mom was an attractive slender woman.
She had a tomboyish figure, but she was still very feminine. She had blonde hair
and blue eyes, and always had a smile for everyone.
For about six months she had been getting very disturbing phone calls. These calls were
only for my mom. If anyone else answered, he would hang up. From what I understand, he
had told my mom exactly what he wanted her to do
while making her partner watch. They had reported it to the police, but nothing could be done until
he actually acted on it. But I guess the police took scaring the fuck out of a six-year-old more
seriously. Because after that, they were watching the house and had our phones tapped.
After that weekend it was over.
My mom never received another phone call.
And all the hang-up calls everyone else got stopped as well.
Something else, a little peculiar happened around that time as well.
The neighbor who took my little brother to school that morning left his wife and family
and moved away.
I always found that odd, but, me either way, our family was safe, and that's truly all
I cared about.
So to the fucking asshole who thought scaring a six-year-old and a mother of two was a good
time, let's not meet because I'm not looking to go to prison.
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I had just ended my marriage with my abusive ex-husband who had a drinking problem.
After taking some time to heal, I decided to try dating again.
The dating sites that I used when I was single no longer existed, so I decided to follow
the trend and hop on to tender.
I had been on a few dates here and there, but there were no memorable stories or moments
before this particular man. This story has stuck with me for almost two years and remains
the scariest date I have ever survived.
I can't remember his name, so we'll call him John. John and I had been talking for
about a week when we made the decision to finally meet.
There were no red flags to speak of, and he seemed kind enough, so I made the questionable
decision to go over to his apartment so that I could cook him dinner.
Cooking is one of my favorite hobbies, and is a big way of showing affection to me.
It made it easier that he lived quite close to where I did at the time, so I drove to his
apartment and picked him up to drive him to a nearby grocery store to pick up ingredients
for the meal that I was about to make.
I could tell, rather quickly, while grocery shopping, that I didn't have the same connection
with John in person that I did via text.
But I felt guilty for wanting to leave before providing him with the cooked meal that I promised.
Plus, I had driven him to the grocery store in my car and would need to drive him back home anyway.
I hoped that after a drink or two we would both loosen up enough to enjoy ourselves.
We arrived back at John's apartment.
He lived on the second floor of the complex.
We poured a couple of drinks.
I was sipping my drink as one does when casually drinking, and I noticed that not only was John
drinking far faster than I was, but he was also taking multiple shots of whiskey between drinks.
I noticed that his personality, as he was drinking, was becoming increasingly irritable,
more angry.
Being that I had just left my previous marriage with an alcoholic, I was not comfortable
being in this position at all.
This on its own would
have been bad enough. But he slowly began saying inappropriate things that involved race
and gender. He even displayed homophobia in what he was saying.
I've since removed his tangents from my memory. I couldn't believe that I didn't have
any idea of who this man truly was before this moment,
and I was ready to remove myself from the situation, but not at the risk of my own safety.
I don't normally look at my cell phone when I'm on a date, but I was starting to become afraid,
and I also needed some kind of distraction since I was only halfway done making the meal.
I thought to myself,
I was only halfway done making the meal. I thought to myself, if I can just finish cooking the meal and quickly eat, I can make
up an excuse to leave after we're done eating.
I just wanted to prevent making him angrier.
John looked at me while I was in the middle of sending a text message to my best friend
and asked angrily, who are you talking to? I was taken aback because even my close friends wouldn't ask me a question
like that let alone someone I had just met. In a position where I wouldn't have felt so
terrified, I would have quickly responded not of your fucking business, and I would have
been entitled to but was not in the position to say anything of the
sort.
Even more afraid than I was before, I thought of the easiest and most believable excuse
that I could have in that situation.
I said, oh, I'm just talking to my best friend.
She's upset because she's having some issues with her boyfriend currently.
He stared at me, unsatisfied with my response. He replied,
does she know that you're on a date right now?
Even more panic, I said, yes, assuming that it would only benefit me that he was aware that people
knew of my whereabouts. He retorted with the classic sarcastic nasty, oh, really?
I froze and then buried myself back into cooking the meal.
John had left the kitchen and gone into his living room,
so I was finally able to take a moment to breathe
and calm myself down.
I finished cooking the meal as quickly as I could, and I walked into the living room to
let him know that the food was ready.
With the smile on his face, and with a new version of himself that I hadn't met yet,
he jumped up from his couch with an enthusiastic, oh great!
I followed him back into the kitchen where he reached over his sink to gather bowls and
utensils for the food.
His back was turned towards me while mine was against the wall across from him.
Talking into his sink, John calmly but sternly started to ask, I just have one question for
you.
Now, in my head, the question was going to be, how would you like to be killed?
But I asked him, yes, and he responded
in a much angrier and escalated tone.
I don't understand why you would come here
after looking so miserable
since the moment we met each other.
I haven't seen you smile once since you've been here.
You should remove all of the photos off of your profile with you smiling because they're
completely misrepresenting you as a person.
This is by far the worst date I've ever been on.
I can't believe you wasted my Saturday night for this.
As afraid as I was in that moment, I was somewhat relieved because I no longer needed to feel
obliged to eat this meal with him.
It was time for me to safely make my escape back to my car and drive away.
I started packing up all of my belongings, and my purse then began walking out of his
apartment to my car. I decided that
not responding to what he said would be in my best interest, and it would be the best
way to de-escalate the situation. After racing out his front door, he was close behind
me, continuing to yell and swear at me. He leaned over his second story balcony and
continued yelling, loud, so loud that all
the neighbors would have easily heard the commotion.
He proceeded to remind me of how horrible I was the whole time I was walking to my car.
The last thing he said before I got into my car was, if you ever go on another first date,
make sure you smile, or no one will ever want to be
with you.
It was as if he were the gold standard, and I would never go on another date after him.
I safely got into my car, in his parking lot.
I locked my doors and I sped off to a nearby parking lot to immediately block his phone
number and call my best friend.
I remembered to block his number, but after
all the panic I forgot to unmatch him on Tinder. Later that night I read the final message
that I would ever receive from John. Along with repeating everything that he had already
spilled in regards to how he felt about me, he ended the message by reminding me, this is by far the worst date
I've ever been on, and that's including the food which is shocking to say because of how good it was.
That part of the story still gives me a laugh. If I wasn't confident in my cooking before I
sure was after a man who despised me couldn't help but compliment the food that I had made for him.
was after a man who despised me couldn't help but compliment the food that I had made for him.
So to John the man that I had made the mistake of meeting, thank you for teaching me a
valuable lesson about when and where to meet people.
I hope that you haven't traumatized any other women after our date.
I hope that you never eat food better than what I made for you and I hope we never meet again. Get ready to roll this summer with four wheel parts summer rollout sale.
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This took place 20 years ago when I was 12 years old. Almost all of the details were kept
from me at the time due to my age, so I didn't find out until much later what actually took
place.
My mother, understandably, still doesn't like talking about any of this, as it was a very
traumatic experience.
It's only with hindsight that I've realized how genuinely creepy and horrific the whole
situation was.
In early 2000, I had just started high school.
My family lived a little ways from school, so my mother used to drop me off in the morning
and pick me up in the afternoon.
On the 15th of February, that year, I headed to meet my mom in the usual pickup point
across the road from my school, but I was surprised to find my grandmother waiting there
for me,
instead. My grandmother told me that my mom wasn't able to pick me up, so I went with her,
and we picked up my brother from his primary school.
My sisters were both away on school trips. My brother and I went back to our grandparents'
house, and my Nana and grandfather sat us down to tell us something terrible had happened.
Our mom's close friend V had died the previous day.
They didn't go into any details other than letting us know our mom was, obviously, extremely
upset.
We were upset, too.
V was a lovely lady, and we had spent a lot of time at her house over the years, not only
because she and my mom were close friends, but also because of her husband, Drew.
He was my brother's Cub Scout leader, and one of their sons was my brother's friend.
At that age, nobody I knew had ever died, so it was quite difficult to process what had
happened. We had only just
seen her the previous weekend. From my perspective as a naive 12-year-old, the following days
passed mostly without incident, apart from my mother's obvious sadness. In hindsight,
there was also an air of disquiet around her. But I really didn't clock it at the time.
Around two weeks after these deaths, I was at home with my mother and brother while my
stepfather, a barrister, went out for dinner with a client.
It was the early evening, perhaps 7 pm, and I believe my older sister was at her boyfriend's
house, while my younger sister was at basketball practice.
Our house had this large, open-planned, L-shaped room that encompassed the kitchen living room and dining room.
My brother was playing in his bedroom while I was sitting on the couch watching TV in the living room area with my mom.
From that vantage point, I had a clear view of the front door.
The security light on our front
porch flickered on, and there was a knock at the door. My mother got up to answer it, and as she
opened the door, she took a step backward. She was visibly stiffened. These husband Drew was standing
on our porch, asking to see my stepfather. I remember my mom explaining that my stepdad wasn't available to talk at the moment, and
she told him that if he needed to speak to my stepfather, then it would be better to call
and leave a message.
Drew realized that my stepdad was not home and insisted on waiting for him.
My mom repeated that it would be better for him to call, but he easily sidesteped
her and into the house. He strode into the living room area.
I can still picture my mother's forced cheeriness and frozen smile as he sat down on the couch
opposite mine and asked for a cup of tea while he waited.
Mom, still with that strange smile plastered on her face, asked me to make the tea while he waited. Mom, still with that strange smile plastered on her face, asked me to
make the tea while she told Vee's husband that she would call to find out what time my
stepdad would be home. I made tea for all three of us and sat down on the couch. I was
making small talk with Drew while my mom repeatedly dialed my step-dad's phone number.
He wasn't answering.
Drew was talking to me, but I remember thinking that it was rude that he didn't seem to
be paying much attention to what I was saying.
His eyes were constantly flicking over to my mom, who was standing on the phone in the
kitchen around five meters away from us.
The whole thing just felt very weird to me.
She eventually got through to my stepdad and said something along the lines of, darling
Drew is here.
Yes, here in the living room.
Yes, yes.
He said that he was waiting for you.
He won't be long, will you?
My stepdad was home within 20 minutes and convinced Drew to leave with promises that they
could speak on the phone the following day.
I found out years later that my mother, stepfather, and the rest of their friends along with
these parents and brothers all strongly suspected Drew had murdered V.
My siblings and I didn't attend the funeral.
I think my mom felt that we were too young, but later I discovered that a police presence
was required at these funeral, which Drew attended.
This was because V's brothers were so angry and there were concerns that somebody could assault Drew.
Because they were convinced he had murdered her.
That's how intensely people suspected him.
My mom was utterly terrified when Drew showed up at our door that night, but had been desperately
trying not to antagonize him, nor frighten him.
It transpired that he had been interviewed by police earlier that day, and it was clear
that they were building a case against him.
He wanted legal advice and potential representation from my stepfather, but he refused.
According to my mom, V and Drew had been having marital problems for a long time, and
V had confided in my mom and
others that she felt increasingly uncomfortable around Drew, and that his temper could be frightening
for both her and their children.
They were sleeping in separate bedrooms, but he didn't seem to accept that the marriage
was over.
The previous weekend, V told my mom and others that she was planning to officially leave
him and that she was going to be making it clear to him that their relationship was over.
On Valentine's Day, when she returned home from dropping the boys off at school, she was
murdered in her bedroom, having supposedly interrupted a burglary, though the police
immediately realized that this was obviously staged.
The contents of the drawers from the bedside tables and chests of drawers had been emptied
into piles on the floor, but there was no indication that these piles had been sifted
through. There were no signs of forced entry, and nothing was stolen. However, there was
blood on the piles of the contents that came from those
drawers, yet no blood on the floor underneath, which suggests that the burglary may have
been staged before she returned home that morning. My mom and others believed that V had
potentially rejected some form of romantic gesture, and he snapped. Drew tried to cover up his crime
by deliberately driving to a series of shops and obtaining receipts for small purchases.
He would make inquiries with cashiers to build an alibi. He also originally claimed that
he had visited a large shopping mall on the day of the murder. He said that he walked
around there for quite
some time, but two weeks later, presumably when he realized that the police could check
the CCTV and find that he wasn't there, he changed his story and said he actually had
been at a very popular local nature reserve, walking and reading a book.
Conveniently, there are no CCTVs in any part of that particular nature reserve, including
the car park.
He was not seen by any other walkers in the area.
He had come to our house that evening after admitting earlier that day that he had initially
lied about his whereabouts to the police.
He was arrested soon after.
Drew never admitted to the murder and was found guilty on circumstantial evidence.
He was sentenced to 21 years with the minimum term of 16 years, meaning he may already
be out on parole.
I can't find any information online and I don't want to ask my mom as I don't want to
drag up awful memories for her.
A few years later, Drew also went through a phase of writing letters to my younger brother
who was around 11 or 12 at that time.
He would send these from prison, protesting his innocence.
It was very, very creepy.
Don't forget to stick around after the music for your extended version of this week's
episode if you're a patron, and if you'd like to get access head over to patreon.com forward
slash lets not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today
I want to thank everyone that listened to my new podcast welcome the paradise. It sucks and
Everyone that reviewed us on Apple podcasts and gave us stars wherever you listen to your podcasts that really helps
Don't forget to check out the new episode that just released last week
Hostile hostile you can listen wherever you get your podcasts or head over to cryptic county podcasts Don't forget to check out the new episode that just released last week, Ha Style Hostel.
You can listen wherever you get your podcasts or head over to crypticcountypodcasts.com
and don't forget to check out my other shows, Odd Trails and the Old Time Radio Cast, wherever
you get your podcasts.
This week you have heard, Cade by Danny Quinn, 04.
Valentine's Night Encounter at Alone Beach by American Raider 76.
Creepy Valentine Caller by Emma.
Weird Guy on Valentine's Day by FallingSphere07.
Fake Kidnapping around Valentine's Day by C.C. Texas Girl 68.
And finally, My Scariest T tender date by Lys.
All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with a permission
of their respective authors.
Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message
boards online.
As always, if you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
I'll see you all next week.
Stay safe. I've been listening to this podcast for quite a while.
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