Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x12: Shady Steve
Episode Date: September 11, 2023Stories in this episode: - Shady Steve, by Anonymous (0:39) - Dirty 6th Street, by Karina (11:55) - Tales from Uttarkhand, by A Spiritual Reader (21:43) - The Old Man in the Dark Green Rugby S...hirt, by Inara (28:43) - Followed During a Blizzard, by Nicole (37:09) - Road Rage Granny, by Oystergirl22 (42:37) - Let's Not Meat, by annasowa (46:39) Extended Patreon Content:  - The Good-For-Nothing Predator, by Soul  - Subway Sketchster, by Dazzle Eyes  - Hallway Creeper, by Mark  - Ginny, by Ana Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. 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! Helix is offering 20% off all mattress orders AND two free pillows for our listeners in honor of Labor Day! Go to HelixSleep.com/meet and use code HELIXPARTNER20! With Helix, better sleep starts now. Listen to A Ghost Ruined My Life with Eli Roth wherever you get your podcasts! Check it out at here! - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/andytatelive/
Transcript
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This podcast contains adult language and content.
Listen to discretion is advised.
If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
Enjoy the show. When I was around 8 years old, my mother and I moved with my two brothers to a cul-de-sac and a nice
area surrounding a golf course.
A few months into living in this area, my mom met a person we'll call Steve.
He was our neighbor.
Mom and Steve started dating quite quickly and all was seemingly well in my mind.
Skip ahead two years later.
I was ten.
My mom and Steve had built a nice house together on the opposite side of the golf course.
The house backed directly onto one of the holes of the golf course.
The only thing that separated our fence from the course itself was a thin trail made of
sand for golf buckies to travel down. This trail led all the way
to the country club itself and was lined with foliage that was maybe around two trees deep.
Since we ourselves owned a golf buggy and needed to be able to move it out onto the sand trail,
we had a very subtle gate that blended and seamlessly as part
of the fence. You wouldn't know it was a gate unless you actually knew. This is very
important to remember for later.
The only thing I really knew about Steve was that he did a lot of fly-in fly-out work
as a minor. This can be common in Australia, and I'm not sure if it's a universal term.
They're often referred to as FIFO. Now, he was constantly flying away to work on mining projects,
or so we thought. Steve's family was strange. They were all very close and came from a European
background. I'm not sure if their closeness was a
cultural thing, but they always just gave off very strange vibes.
Steve's nephew, who was around four years older than me, constantly
gravitated towards me at family gatherings. He would never leave me alone. I was told
that he had a little crush on me, but like I said before this entire
family gave me the creeps. Being gone for weeks at a time was pretty normal, and being a
FIFO worker, it's expected. He left for a little longer than usual one time, and I asked
my mom about it. She brushed it off, and told me not to worry.
Around this same time, I started noticing that
the same car would often drive up and down our street, slowing down to a near stop in front
of our house very frequently. When I addressed this with my mom, I was told to forget it.
As a naive ten-year-old, this response was sufficient, so I simply said, okay, and ignored it.
While he was away, my mom discovered a box hidden away in his closet.
My mom and Steve had his and hers closets, which means their closets were completely separate.
I'm not completely sure what possessed my mom to snoop, but I'm really glad that she did.
In this box, she found several contracts and a lot of adult toys, and I mean a lot.
Through more digging around, my mom also found that he did not work in the mining industry.
He wasn't even a FIFO worker. He was an escort, and apparently a very
in-demand and popular one at that. Among the adult toys and the contracts, she
found letters, lots and lots of letters from the same woman. She was asking when
she could see him again, and she wrote graphic details about their time together.
Understandably outraged, my mom continued to read these letters until she found one letter in
particular that wasn't like the rest. The letter was from the other woman's husband.
In the letter, he threatened to kill Steve if he didn't leave his wife alone.
I can't remember what my mom told me the letter said verbatim, but it was extremely violent
and terrifying.
My mom threw a bunch of his stuff in bags and dramatically threw them over the balcony
into our front yard and waited for him to come home so that she could confront him.
When he arrived, he parked his car out front like usual and came into the house.
He immediately asked my mom why his stuff was outside.
My mom sent me to my room, and all I heard was an extremely loud argument, and my mom crying.
I heard the back door fly open, followed by the sound of footsteps running. My mom later explained that Steve had jumped the back fence and sprinted away.
We had a massive laugh about this because, with his car parked in front of the house, he
had to run the entire distance of the trail down to the country club.
He then had to run back around the long, long driveway, leading to the golf course, and up the suburb until
he reached our street, totaling around 6 kilometers, which is over 3.5 miles. Mom told him
to grab his stuff, leave, and never come back. Then they organized a time to meet, and
sort out an agreement for the mortgage. After he had come and collected his stuff, he left his
key and made his final exit when we weren't there. My mom told him to meet her at a public
place so that they could talk about the house. Their conversation was very concise on my
mom's side while Steve attempted to plead his case. Intent on not giving him an inn, my mom stayed on course with settling the house situation.
He went silent as he listened to my mom talk about what she wanted to do.
He didn't say a word until he placed his hand on her hand.
He stopped her mid-sentence and pulled out a box with a ring inside.
Confused, my mom asked, Steve, are you crazy?
How could you possibly believe I would want to marry you?"
He just stared as he held the ring in one hand and gripped my mom's hand with the other.
Then he said, and I quote, I own your soul, you belong to me and I to you, we
belong together, marry me."
Astounded and completely convinced that he was a genuine psychopath, my mom called him
crazy. To this day, she says it was the creepiest thing anybody has ever said to her. She left immediately and told him to
never contact us unless he wanted the police involved.
Then she said that she was going to hire a lawyer and settle the housing situation. After
that, my mom came home, we ate dinner, spent a little time together watching some shows
and we all went to sleep. The next morning, very early, I woke up in shock because I saw my
grandma peeking into my room. I asked, panicked and confused, and, man, what are you doing here?"
She replied, just stay calm for me right now, okay.
I hastily nodded as I was still trying to wake up. Then she continued,
nodded as I was still trying to wake up. Then she continued, ''Your house was broken into last night. Your mom called me over. Get dressed and come
outside.''
''I was scared. So scared. I still feel fear from this situation to this day.''
The burglars had gotten into the house sometime late at night or early morning.
The police found two sets of footprints.
The burglars knew how to get in through the subtle gate that was out back.
As I said earlier, there was no possible way to know that this gate was a gate, unless
you knew that since it was so subtle.
To the average person walking by are cruising in a golf buggy, it's simply a fence.
I mean, we knew that it was our gate, but there's absolutely no way a random stranger
would know about this point of entry.
After getting through the gate, the burglars had gotten into the house by wriggling off the screen
from a tiny window in the corner of our kitchen
and pushing the window up. Then they reached their arm through the window and unlocked the
sliding door. My mom only noticed when she grabbed her cigarettes first thing in the
morning and found her entire bag flipped over with its contents missing.
The most terrifying part about this, in particular, is that my mom's bag was always right next
to her bed.
It was on her bedside table next to her sleeping body.
This was during summer, so naturally, my mother was sleeping in the buff and unblinketed.
It gives me chills now thinking about how vulnerable she was during this burglary.
The burglars took two extremely heavy TVs.
This was when rear projection flat screen TVs were new and highly coveted.
These TVs weighed 100 kilograms, which is over 200 pounds.
The burglars also took my Nintendo DS, which was horrifying since this meant that they were in my room,
snooping around, and stealing my things while I was fast asleep.
They stole many other things too. It's too much to recollect.
The weirdest thing about this was that the back gate was left completely open.
The sand trail outside of the gate was barely wide enough for golf
buggy, so it was impossible for a car to fit back there. In fact, the police and everybody else
could tell that there wasn't a car back there, as there were no tire or trailer tracks in the sand.
The lack of tire tracks also implies that not even a buggy was used to carry out this crime.
So that means that these burglars had to have walked these bulky TVs and other items
2 kilometers down the trail to the country club parking lot.
How and the heck did these burglars do it without being heard or seen?
Due to walking everything out, it had to have taken them hours to do this.
The police took our statements and said that they would investigate, but we never heard
anything from them.
But we know who did it.
It's all too much of a coincidence.
I'm grateful that we got out of a bad situation that we didn't even know we were in.
I'm grateful my mom wasn't taken advantage of
in her vulnerable state.
I'm proud of my mom for standing up for herself
and confronting Steve about his lies immediately.
To the creepy psychopathic burglar Steve
and his creepy family, let's never meet again. I went to Austin, Texas back in April for a work conference.
I went with two other co-workers that are roughly the same age as I am, meaning all three
of us are in our mid to late 20s.
After a long day of meetings, we decided to go to 6th Street, which was a very short walk
from our hotel.
Apparently 6th Street is the College Party Street and is often referred to as dirty sixth street.
We started this excursion at around three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and it started
out perfectly.
The first bar that we went to was pretty empty, and our bartender was a lovely female.
She was also around our age, and we were her only customers on this Tuesday afternoon,
so it was nice.
After enjoying a shot and one beer, we decided to continue to another bar.
After we left that first bar, I was on a mission to find a mechanical bowl.
I had some liquid courage and we were in Austin, so I figured why not.
After some research, we discovered that there was only
one bar in our area that had a mechanical bowl available to ride, so this became our next
stop. We arrived at the bar with a mechanical bowl, and it was pretty empty. Honestly,
I think it was just us three girls and maybe four members of their staff, all male, who
were there at the time.
Before we decided to ride the bull, we had a couple more beers because we were a little
nervous.
Eventually, we had enough courage to conquer the bull.
I was the first to ride the bull, then my two co-workers went after me.
The mechanical bull operator let each of us get on the bull more than
once, and we thought that that was nice of him. After we finished writing the bull, we decided
to continue to hang out at this bar. The bar soon had more people in there, and we were
feeling safe, and having a great time. This is when things get weird, though. As we were
sitting at the bar, laughing and drinking, a man who appeared to be in his thirties
stood right beside me.
Eventually he introduced himself and will call him Alex.
Alex offered me a drink, and I said no, because I didn't want him to think that this was
his way to tag along with us.
But Alex was persistent in offering me a free drink.
I said yes hoping that he would leave us alone after that.
I asked the bartender for their cheapest shot, but Alex said that he had money and he was
pushing for me to select something more expensive.
Then our bartender oddly vouched for Alex and said that he was a regular at this bar,
and he did have money.
He added that I shouldn't worry about spending Alex's money.
I thought that that was a little weird since Alex was giving me a funny feeling.
We ordered two shots of vodka and took them.
Afterward, I said thank you to Alex and thought that he had left right after that, so I assumed
that was it.
After that, my co-workers and I decided that it was time to continue the night at another
bar.
As we were leaving, we saw Alex, the guy that was operating the mechanical bull, and a
couple of other men outside hanging in front of the bar.
All of them said bye to us, and we started walking to our next bar.
After we walked out of the mechanical bull bar, I kept looking back just to make sure
that nobody was behind us, because I couldn't shake this weird feeling that I had after
we left.
We made it to this random little bar that was a good distance away from the mechanical
bowl bar. We could hear live music coming from this bar so there we went. Once we got in there,
I immediately went to use the bathroom with one of my co-workers. The other co-workers stayed
behind to get a table and order drinks. At this point it was around 8pm and we were on a good one as we started drinking around
3pm.
My coworker and I were taking our usual bathroom selfies while freshening up.
We were only in the bathroom for about 5 minutes.
Right when we walked out of this bathroom, I saw Alex and two other men with him walking
into this bar.
I immediately told both of my coworkers thatworkers that Alex and the men, that he was with outside,
had entered this bar.
All three of us thought that it was really weird.
When we walked into this new bar, I knew that they weren't behind us because I would
have seen them since I kept looking over my shoulder.
I made sure that we had left them at that mechanical bull bar. Alex and his friends situated themselves at the back of the bar and just stood there,
watching us. I was freaked out since I made sure that they weren't following us, I had
no clue how they knew where we were. I also noticed that the mechanical bull operator had also come to the same bar. Suddenly, all
of that liquid courage was drained from my body, and my co-workers were in the same boat.
I walked up to the bull operator and asked him why he was there. He said, I followed you,
girls, because I think Alex and his friends are following you.
Being a female in her mid-20s, who was in a state far from home, that was not what
I wanted to hear.
The bull operator said that he needed to take a call.
He said that he would stay behind to make sure that we were okay.
With the bull operator behind us, I told the girls that I didn't feel safe and that we
should leave.
They agreed, but my coworker ordered drinks when we arrived. We were still waiting for
them.
Then I felt somebody tapped my shoulder. I turned around and it was Alex's friend. He
asked me for my name. I kept it short and I walked to the other side of the table. Alex's friend then walked over to the mechanical bull operator and they started talking.
I knew that something fishy was going on.
As I was observing everything out of nowhere, a female bartender gave me some water, so
I felt that she knew something weird was going on.
As my coworkers were trying to close out their tabs,
the mechanical bull operator re-approached me and said,
I know Alex's boss and I can message him and ask him to get Alex to leave you girls alone.
I asked, what do you mean boss? Boss of what? He then wiped his nose as if he were signaling
something to somebody.
My co-workers overheard this advice, and we decided to leave immediately.
As all of this was going on, I was messaging my fiancee, description of Alex and his
friends.
I felt it was important to note everything and share it with somebody back at home in
case of an emergency.
The bull operator then told us to go back to the bar that he worked at, where he said that we would be safe. As my co-workers and I were walking out,
the bull operator was right in front of us, and we exchanged apprehensive glances.
Right when we walked out of the door, we took a right and ran back to our hotel.
As my coworkers and I were running, every stoplight was red, but we just kept going.
I never felt so relieved to get away from a situation in my whole life.
My whole night had been so weird. We kept things low, key for the next few nights,
but then decided to go out again on Friday.
We thought that it would be a little safer since the streets and bars would be packed
with people.
We used strategy to avoid the bars that we went to a few nights before.
I went to use the restroom at one of the bars that we went that Friday and in my stall, I saw an advisory sticker that said, don't get assaulted,
ATX rapists exposed.
It gave me chills, and immediately made me think of the men that were following us around.
To the mechanical bull operator Alex and his friends, let's not ever meet again.
You're listening to Let's Not Meet.
It's a podcast about real-life stories.
You know that already.
And I'm guessing you also understand just how powerful these kinds of stories can be.
That's why I'm excited to tell you about a ghost ruined my life.
With Eli Roth from the Travel Channel, here are the real life stories of people who have
been through terrifying confrontations with the unknown and come out alive.
For this podcast, Roth has gone through hundreds of submissions from real people whose lives
have been ravaged by a ghost demon or sinister entity.
Each episode focuses on one person's story, handpicked and introduced by Roth and retold
by the victims themselves.
They talk about some of the most terrifying, unexplainable events that they've experienced,
and now so can you. Listen to a ghost ruined my life with Eli Roth wherever you get your podcasts.
I'm a PhD scholar from a small town called Utarakhand in India.
I've been listening to this podcast since 2019, but finally feel confident enough to
share my story.
I'm currently 24 years old, and these incidents have been in my nightmares since they
happened.
The first story dates back to 2012 when I was in seventh grade.
I attended an all-girls school that was around a 15-20-minute walk from my home.
I lived in a residential area close to a university with my dad, mom, and younger brother.
Close to where our home is, there's a human resource development center known as HRDC.
It offers refresher courses for professors from all over the country.
Many men worked there, but pretty much all of them were middle aged, and they knew me
because of my dad.
One of the men who worked there was younger maybe in his early twenties, but around that
time I was 12.
I always caught this guy creepily staring at me.
It was routine for him to message me to ask me about my whereabouts, how I was doing,
etc.
Though I never replied to him and ignored him every time.
This continued for about three to four months until September of that year. After
having a pretty rough day, I was walking home from school. As soon as I reached the area
that was close to the HRDC, I started feeling anxious since this was where I generally
would spot that guy. I was feeling worried about seeing him, and as I was nervously walking
by, I did. My heart dropped. I tried to ignore him and continue walking, but he started questioning
me as he always did. Instead of letting me carry on with my walk, he just stood in my
way and wouldn't let me go. I never looked at him during this interaction which I think
agitated him. I looked around, trying to find an alternate route home, and a way out
of this situation as his questions continued. He asked me, how was your day? Do you want
us to have a good time? I have a high temper, and I tend to get upset rather quickly. This guy's attitude
had been irritating me on a daily basis, but this encounter crossed the line. I was at my
limit, so my reply was, my day, you really want to know? Then I leaned in close to his face
and slapped him before continuing. That's how it went, are you happy?
He was quite surprised by this, and stepped aside, making away from me to continue walking
home.
As soon as I got home, my mom asked me why I was late.
I gave her an excuse about the monkeys in the neighborhood being in attack mode.
I said I had to wait it out before walking home, which made me late.
I never told her or my dad the reality of what happened that day. I've only told this story
to a trusted cousin, somebody that I'm very close with. I never saw the guy again after that,
but I was very afraid of what he would do if he ever saw me again, so to the creepy guy who irritated me to the point of slapping him, let's not meet again.
Well two years after that incident, three other similar creepy men started working at HR
DC.
I was in ninth grade and still attending the same all girls school.
As years and events have passed, you'd think that men would have changed how they behaved
towards women, but they haven't.
I was so done with these guys, they were always hanging around the dining hall in the
center, and they constantly stared at me while singing songs and revealing their bodies
to me by removing their shirts.
This always felt so awkward to me.
I complained to my dad about these guys and asked him to talk to them about it, but he
was never able to do this, as I didn't know their actual names.
My dad talked to their colleagues, but I'm sure that they never did anything since these
guys never stopped what they were doing.
They often passed by my home since they knew exactly
what location I lived at. This kept happening for years until I was in 12th grade.
Around this time, my best guy friend, who we'll call Manny, came back into my life.
He and his family moved back into the neighborhood after relocating and changing
schools years ago.
We had known each other forever, ever since we were toddlers, so it was really great to
connect.
His dad is my dad's colleagues, so they also knew each other well.
We are now good family friends and have been each other's support for a long time.
Many and I have faced challenges for our closeness due to our neighbors being nosy and making
a fuss about a girl and a guy being close friends.
But our parents had no issues with this and wanted us to be close, so we've maintained
our friendship.
After Manny and I reconnected, he initiated talking to me while I was taking specialized
accounting classes and he was taking specialized accounting classes and he was taking
specialized mathematics classes.
In India, we refer to these classes as coaching.
We had different coaching centers and he used to walk with me to mine before going to his.
One day, we had evening coaching classes and I walked back home from my coaching class
with Manny.
During our walk, I saw one of those creepy HRDC guys on a motorcycle on the opposite side
of the road.
I got anxious when I saw him.
Manny noticed a change in my expression and asked me to tell him what was going on.
At first I refused, but later on after much of his insistence, I told him the whole story.
He said that it was going to be okay and that I didn't need to worry.
I wasn't sure what Manny aimed to do, and he still hasn't told me what he did to this
day.
But I know he did something because the next day, while I was coming back home, none of those
HRDC guys were lurking
around, unlike every other day. This has become the routine now, and I haven't seen those
creepy guys since. I've tried asking Manny what he did, but he always refuses to tell
me. So, to those creepy guys who made four of my school years a total nightmare, let's never meet again, at any
age in life, and to my loving guardian and best friend, Mani, who helped me without ever
revealing how.
The heartiest of thanks to you.
One day, two of my closest friends, Tasha and Kirsten and I were walking around the neighborhood.
At the time, I was 14, while Tasha was 13 and Kirsten was 15.
It was the summertime, so there were a lot of people out and about.
We decided to go to the park that was closest to my house.
We saw all of the usual things that you would see on a summer's day.
There were some teenage boys playing basketball, a couple cuddling under a tree, a father playing
on the swing set with his two children.
The park was fairly small, and the layout of it was a square with a path on each corner
for people to enter and exit the park.
Three of these paths led to open roads, whereas the fourth one was covered with foliage
and led down to a more closed off road, basically if you went down that path nobody would be
able to see you through the foliage.
Tasha, Kirsten, and I were all sitting in the middle of the park on the saddle spinners.
The two of them were having a conversation, but I wasn't paying much attention to what
they were saying.
I was too busy taking in my surroundings.
Ever since I was little, I've always been very paranoid in social settings, and I was
always on high alert just in case something were to happen.
As I was looking straight ahead at one of the roads, I saw an old man walking down the
sidewalk.
He had a grey buzz cut.
He was wearing some dirty denim jeans, with a pair of dirty black boots and a dark green
rugby shirt.
The shirt was for the South African rugby team, the spring box, to be exact.
He had his hand on his head almost as if he were in some sort of distress.
I didn't think anything of it until he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turned
around, and started walking into the park via one of the paths.
I watched him approach the teenage boys that were playing basketball and talk
to them. I couldn't hear what was being said, but then he came up to me and my friends,
looking very distressed. He told us that he lost his Sasa card, which is a debit card
that retired people use here in South Africa. He asked if we'd seen it anywhere, to which we replied no. I felt bad for the
poor man, but he was still kind of giving me the crapes for some reason. That day, I was
wearing an oversized hoodie, a skirt, and some fishnet tights. This old man kept staring
at me. I'm no stranger to being stared at weirdly because, ever since I was 13, and to
this day, my hair has been every color of the rainbow. But it wasn't my hair he was staring at.
It was my legs. Anyway, he then walked up to the other people in the park, probably asking them
the same thing, but my friends and I decided to get up and walk to a different park for a change of atmosphere.
We were walking down the path that I mentioned earlier, the one that cuts you out of everyone's
sight once you reach it.
We were still in the middle of the pathway leading over there, meaning everyone could still
clearly see us.
When I looked back, I saw the old man coming up behind us.
I immediately stopped my friends, and I
told them that this guy appeared to be following us.
Sure, there's a chance that he might not have been, and I was just being paranoid, but
I saw the fear in Tasha's eyes immediately. She was quick on her feet, and loudly said,
yeah, I think they actually wanted to meet us there.
She then pointed across the grass to one of the bigger roads that stemmed from the path
where the man initially came from, directly to our left, and no there wasn't anybody
waiting to meet us.
The man clearly heard her.
Instead of giving up after hearing that we were going to be meeting up with other people,
he rushed towards us and asked,
Oh, are you guys leaving now?
We all looked at each other with confusion, but nobody responded to him.
He then followed up with,
Okay, but before you go, let me show you this.
He then pulled down his pants and exposed himself in broad daylight, in front of all of the
other people at the park.
I didn't need even a second to process what was happening before my fight or flight
instinct kicked in.
I started booking it to the grassy field, and then across the road to the other side.
I turned around and I saw Tasha and Kirsten actually walking towards me as if nothing happened.
I was visibly confused and asked them why they didn't run. Both of them said that they'd just
froze as the man walked away. My heart was pounding out of my chest at the thought of what could have
happened if we would have continued down that path to the closed-off road. And what upset me,
even more, was the fact that nobody at the park did anything
about this guy. On our way back to my house, Tasha and Kirsten told me not to tell their mother
what happened, or else we wouldn't be able to walk around the neighborhood again. I stayed silent
about it for a full three years, until Tasha and I were walking through the neighborhood again one day,
just the two of us. We had just come back from the little corner store nearby, and as we were
walking back to my house we saw the same old man from three years earlier. We immediately recognized
him because he was wearing the exact same dark green rugby shirt that he wore on that traumatizing day.
Luckily, we were right outside of Tasha's aunt's house, so we ran to her front door and asked her to give us a ride home.
After all of this, I had to tell my mom. She wasn't mad at me, like I was expecting.
She was upset that I didn't tell her sooner, so that the guy could
be locked up for what he did. So to that old man who's still free to roam around my neighborhood,
please, let's never meet again. I didn't even know I needed a new mattress until my mattress from Helix showed up on my door
step.
I thought that I was just a light sleeper.
It turns out I was just sleeping on a pile of garbage, so to speak, because as soon as
I fell onto my Helix mattress,
I refused to get up. My wife and my dogs joined me there on the floor by the front door,
and we took one of the greatest naps in history. This is a true story. Helix is great. They offered
20 unique mattresses. We went with one from their award-winning Luxe collection. We decided on the
sunset after taking
their helix sleep quiz. It only took a couple of minutes and they recommended the perfect mattress
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This happened about three years ago. I had just moved to a new town and started a new job.
I only lived 10 minutes away from work, which was so exciting because I typically lived
over 30 minutes away from jobs that I had in the past.
Anyway, on this particular day, I was running late.
I was in a hurry, so I just ran out the door and took off for work.
It was snowing like crazy and getting worse, but I still made it in.
When I walked into work, I realized that I didn't have my phone on me, which was not like
me, especially during a snow storm.
But I had to continue on with my day, not looking forward to sitting in the quiet on my lunch
break instead of watching Netflix on my phone.
The weather only continued to get worse throughout the day, so my boss decided that we should
close up early and head home.
My only work to few hours, so it was still light outside, thankfully.
The winters here are awful.
The days are short, and the nighttime creeps in extremely early.
As we were leaving, a coworker of mine, who has a second job at a chain burrito place,
gave me a coupon for a free burrito.
And even though there was a blizzard going on, I decided I was going to get a free burrito. And even though there was a blizzard going on, I decided
I was going to get that free burrito. I hopped into my car and headed in the direction
of the burrito place, which happened to be on the route that I was taking to get home,
convenient. During my slow and horribly slippery drive, I came to a red light. There was
a car and the right turning lane, sitting next
to me. As the light turned green, this blue car didn't realize they were supposed to turn,
and they nearly hit me as they weren't paying attention. I gave him a small hump to make
my presence known. He stopped immediately to allow me to pass, and I looked over at him. He was a
middle-aged man, and he was very angry. I kept going, and when it was time to turn into
the restaurant's parking lot, I looked behind me. I saw that he also turned.
This specific turn had a lot of different shops and restaurants to go to, so I figured maybe he was just going to another shop that was here. But my gut just had this sinking feeling.
So I decided to ease myself by testing him. Instead of parking, I looped around the building,
and as I was doing this, I saw the blue car also looping around the building behind me.
This was when I realized something was definitely wrong. I made another loop around the building and
so did he. I looked down for my phone, completely forgetting that I had left it at home that
morning. I was panicking, but also trying to think of what to do next. I left the parking lot and decided to loop around the small block, and he followed me.
There was a bank in the next parking lot over, so I did a loop around that, and so did he.
I went and did another loop, and he continued to follow.
I even went back into the main street and turned into a random neighborhood but he stayed
following me.
I was crying at this point.
I had just moved to this town not long ago and I didn't know where the police station
was to get help.
Plus, it was snowing like crazy and there was nobody outside or on the roads.
I knew I shouldn't go home because it was unclear what this man wanted from me.
As I pulled back into a parking lot, the one that I initially turned into with many different
shops and restaurants, a stroke of luck hit me. I saw a couple getting out of their trucks,
so I booked it over to them. I pulled up next to them and rolled down my window. I began balling.
I explained that I was being followed by a
man, and I didn't have my phone. This must have scared them, but I really didn't need help.
Just as I was pointing out the guy, he pulled into the lot, stopped, and just stared at us.
He was about five car lengths away from us, sitting at the entrance of the parking lot. The man
in his wife looked at the guy and waved. He then quickly reversed and sped away.
That's the part that creeps me out the most.
The couple then asked me if they should follow me home as I explained I only lived a few
minutes away. I thanked them and said yes. When we arrived at my place, I
thanked him again, and again. They were very sweet for saving me and making sure that
I got home safe. I went inside and locked the doors, and then I looked out the windows.
All I could think about is what he would have done to me if I parked and got out of my
car. Why did he leave so suddenly when
I was with other people? Did he want me alone? I don't know. All I know is I'm scared to
honk at people now. So to the man in the blue car who must have been upset about being honked
at during a blizzard? Please, let's never meet again.
I really love listening to all of the weird and wonderful stories on the podcast, and I
have a story to tell.
I'm a female and I live in Cape Town, South Africa.
This happened a few years ago.
I was with my friend, Rye.
We just had a lovely morning at a crocodile farm about an hour away from where I live.
We were on the highway on our way back home.
We were driving the speed limit of 120 kilometers per hour, which is nearly 75 mph for the US
listeners.
We saw a truck in our lane with a car right behind it.
I moved over to the fast lane, but as I did, the car that was right behind the trucks
swerved in front of me, even though they were going much slower than I was. I had to slam on my brakes as I nearly hit them, and I hooded at the driver to alert
them of the dumb and dangerous move they had made.
Once we passed the truck, the car changed lanes again. Rye and I were talking, and I looked
over to see the driver of the car as we were passing.
She looked to be about 65 years old and was hanging, yes, hanging outside of her window
and shouting, swearing at us.
She was giving us the finger along with all kinds of other gestures.
She wasn't looking at the road at all.
We were shocked, and since Rye and I are the type to laugh when we want to break the
tension, we started laughing and ignored her.
Then she just lost it.
She swirved in front of me again and hit her brakes, forcing me to have to break sharply
again.
Now the road was actually very busy at this time as it was a Saturday, and one of the main
highways leading out of the city.
That being said, cars were already traveling between 100 and 120 kilometers.
So I decided that this lady was crazy, and my advanced driving training kicked in.
I changed lanes to get away from her, but low and behold, so did she.
She was still in front of me, and she hit the
brakes hard again, which forced me to swerve into the emergency lane. She changed lanes
again into the emergency lane with me. By this time, Rye and I were no longer laughing,
this woman was clearly trying to make me hit her on purpose. I got out of the emergency
lane and back into the flowing traffic. She followed suit and continued
braking. I had to get back into the emergency lane again to avoid hitting her. I just slowed
down to a full stop hoping that she would be satisfied with running me off the road. But
no, I looked up and there she was. In the emergency lane stopped right in front of me. I had gotten out of my car,
and I was ready to confront her when she started reversing. I jumped back into my car, and
started to reverse, which is something that is incredibly dangerous to do on such a busy
road. This must have finally been her limit because she stopped, and went on her way. Rye and I were so scared and our adrenaline was pumping so hard that I had to stop for
a few minutes to catch my breath and calm down.
The weird thing about this is that the lady was diligent in changing lanes very quickly
to get in front of me to make me hit her.
It was so dangerous for her to be doing that, especially because an accident
at that speed could have killed her or us or anyone else driving by. Her road rage was preventing
her from thinking clearly, and let's just say, I think twice before hooting at people now,
especially on the road. So, to the crazy road rage granny on the N1, let's never meet again and hopefully, you
no longer drive.
About 12 years ago, I started working in advertising.
As many people in this field of work will tell you,
the hours can be very long.
Everyone stayed late all the time
and as a people pleaser to a truly unhealthy extent,
so did I.
At least our boss had this policy of paying for a taxi
if we worked past 10 pm
because he didn't want us on public transportation
late at night.
All we had to do was bring the receipt to him the next day and he would reimburse us.
So after another one of these long days, I decided to call a taxi instead of taking
public transportation, which would take me an hour at that time of night.
The office was at the edge of town, and you had
to pass by empty industrial complexes, office buildings and car dealerships to reach the
highway that leads to my place in the next town over. I got into the taxi and told the driver
where I needed to go. Honestly, I was so tired that I can't even recall if he made small talk or not.
All I remember was noticing that he passed the exit that I was supposed to take.
Oh, you missed the turn, I said.
He lifted his eyes from the rearview mirror.
No, I didn't.
I want to show you something.
He replied in a calm, almost seductive voice.
Any normal person would have raised their voice, but not me. Oh no, my people pleasing
self laughed politely and nicely said something along the lines of, no really, I need to get
home. Just take this exit right here. But he didn't. Instead, he drove the taxi into the empty streets
between some of the industrial buildings just at the town's edge. I wasn't really comprehending
what was going on. I just thought, this can't be happening. Where is this guy taking me?
He slowed down, stopped the car, and turned off the engine next to this huge warehouse.
You see that building over there?
He asked.
That's the wholesale market hall for fresh meat.
My throat went dry as I imagined him driving into the empty warehouse and hanging me on
meat hooks. Why was he bringing me here?
Honestly, I was paralyzed, both with fear and the overwhelming need to be polite.
This guy was really freaking me out. When we were stopped, I didn't even think of jumping out
of the car. If this was a horror movie, everyone would scream at me for being
so stupid, but I was frozen, and I guess in denial."
He then started the car again, and drove while eyeing me in the rear-view mirror the whole
time. He kept taking roads that he didn't need to take, and at this point of the taxi
ride, we had been on the road for twice as long as it ordinarily would
have taken to get home, but I didn't say a word. You know, driving taxis isn't the only thing that I do,"
he said, breaking the silence with that low creepy voice again. There's something else that I like to do.
I thought kidnapping, murdering people, but I didn't say it aloud. Instead,
I nervously asked, oh, what's that? He was silent for a moment. Then suddenly, his
whole creepy demeanor changed. Oh, I'm actually a surfing teacher. I only drive taxis for six months out of the year.
The other six months, I'm teaching people how to surf.
He explained this in a bubbly and chipper manner.
My jaw dropped.
What just happened?
He just dropped the creepy act and did a total 180.
I was so mad but also relieved at the same time.
When we arrived at my place, the guy actually had the nerve to bill me for the entire ride,
which in the end took three times as long as it should have, but I told him no I refused.
People pleasing be damned. People pleasing, be damned."
After all, he took me to that freaky side-quest to see the wholesale market hall for fresh meat.
I wasn't going to be paying for that whole ride, so I just gave him what I usually gave the
taxi drivers who drove me home and got out of there. I didn't even ask for a receipt,
so I had nothing to give my boss for reimbursement the next morning, but at that there. I didn't even ask for a receipt, so I had nothing to give my boss
for reimbursement the next morning, but at that point, I didn't care.
In hindsight, I made all the mistakes. I ignored the red flags like it was an Olympic
sport. I didn't raise my voice, I didn't call anyone, I didn't jump out of the car,
and I prioritized being polite over feeling safe.
I let that guy take me on a creepy 40 minute long tour against my will.
I would like to think, 12 years later, I would not let that happen today.
So to that strange taxi driver who took me to the wholesale market hall for fresh meat
against my will at 10 at night. Let's not meet.
Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast.
If you're a patron, make sure you stick around after the music for your extended, ad-free
version of this week's episode.
And if you want to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast
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You'll get instant access to hours and hours of bonus content.
This week you have heard shady Steve by Anonymous,
dirty sixth street by Karina.
Tales from Utarakon by a spiritual reader,
the old man in the dark green rug be shirt by Anara,
followed during a blizzard by Nicole,
road rage granny by Oyster Girl 22,
and finally, let's not Meet by Anasoa.
All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission
of their respective authors.
If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and
finally don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts, Odd Trails,
my true paranormal podcast, Welcome to paradise it sucks in the old time
radio cast, all at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts.
See you all next week, everyone stay safe. During my last holiday, I went back to my hometown to visit my family.
During my last holiday, I went back to my hometown to visit my parents.