Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x20: My Biggest Fan
Episode Date: November 6, 2023Stories in this episode: - 5 Kids Home Alone | EvenMarketing3752 (0:39) - Antique Store Encounter | Lilly (5:47) - Our Dad's Name Saved Us | Mel (11:54) - To Toby | Sonia (16:38) - Local Bar Lurke...rs | Anonymous (21:02) - Emma and Her Associate | Derek (25:19) - Mysterious Man at the Coffee Shop | babysquid22 (29:17) - Messages From Angel | The Cameraman (33:18) - My Biggest Fan | YouTube Girl (36:37) Extended Patreon Content: - Late Night Creepers | Nathan - He Went From Stalker to Arsonist to...Cadet? | Kai 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. Â Â 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! - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/Â Â - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/justandydrums
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Metrolinx and cross-links are reminding everyone to be careful as Eglinton
Cross-town LRT train testing is in progress. Please be alert, as trains can pass
at any time on the tracks. Remember to follow all traffic signals, be careful
along our tracks, and only make left turns where it's safe to do so. Be alert, be
aware, and stay safe. This happened when I was a kid in the mid 80s.
I was about 7 years old and I was at home with 2 of my older sisters aged 8 and 11 and
my 2 cousins who were 7 and 8.
All 5 of us are girls and my 11 year old sister was in charge of babysitting the four of us.
You have to picture what our house looked like in order to understand what happened.
We were living in a two-story box house with a flat roof and a small box front porch,
which also had a flat roof. I can't remember what we were doing when we were all inside the house, when we kept hearing the noises coming from the roof, it sounded like someone was walking up there, and we heard what sounded like little rocks being
dropped down the downspouts. Being kids, we thought it was probably just a squirrel or something,
but the noise kept happening. Then my older sister said something about how maybe somebody climbed up the huge tree beside
the house and got onto the roof.
We were all scared because we knew that there was roof access into one of the bedrooms.
It was the bedroom that I shared with one of my sisters.
We instantly became worried that whoever was up there could get inside.
My older sister told my other sister and one one of our other cousins, to walk to the corner
store across the street.
She said that on the way back, they should look up to see if they could see anybody on
the roof.
So two of the girls walked across the street.
Once they were halfway through the gravel parking lot outside of the corner store, being curious kids, they turned around, looked up, and saw a man on the roof.
He was wearing one of those cropped football jerseys that guys were in the 80s,
think Johnny Depp in a nightmare on Elm Street. He was crouched down on our roof.
The girls came running home immediately, freaking out.
They told my older sister about the guy, so she went to the neighbor's house to use their deck to
see the guy herself, but she couldn't see anything. Then she came back to our house
and called the police. It felt like it took ages for them to show up. When they got there,
I don't think they believed a single word that we said.
They thought that a bunch of little kids were fabricating this story for attention. One
cop drove down the road and up a hill about a block away to see if they could see anybody.
But due to the way that the roof was, you really couldn't see a person if they were up there,
especially if they were lying down.
Then these cops told us to go upstairs by ourselves to check to see if we could find anyone.
Yes, they sent five little girls from ages 7 to 11 upstairs to investigate, even though
we were scared and crying.
They told us to go up and look for him upstairs after we told them about the room that he had
roof access to.
We all cried and said that we didn't want to go, but they told us that we had to.
To this day, I still remember how scared I was.
I remember going upstairs and looking around to see if he had gotten inside.
We didn't find him, but how well can little kids look around?
The cops didn't even come in to check out the house.
They also didn't really look around the perimeter at all.
They just left.
We were so scared to be left home knowing that there was a guy out there.
We didn't know where he was, but we knew that he was somewhere.
We didn't know if he was just lying down on the roof, or maybe he jumped down.
It was even entirely possible that he was inside the house and was hiding.
My mom finally returned after a few hours later, and we told her what happened.
My mom reassured us that there was a lock on the roof access that was always
locked, so she said that no one could get in, but she checked it out anyway.
Then she went to check out the outside. There were clear footprints in the dirt. Some of
the imprints were very clear. They were on the ground where he clearly jumped off of
the roof and into the flower bed. My mom was steaming mad when she realized we had told the truth, but we were not taken
seriously by the police.
We went to the police station the next day and we were all separated and interviewed individually.
We all told the same story.
My mom essentially raked the cops over the coals for handling our case so poorly.
We never found out who the guy was or why he was on our roof, but we've always wondered.
Did he somehow know there were five little girls home alone in the house? The story took place earlier this year.
I'm a 26 year old female, and I have struggled with anxiety my whole life.
This anxiety has morphed over the years but has
recently presented itself as agoraphobia. I have always been terrified of what
evil people are capable of. As such, I have become hyper aware of my surroundings.
Would that being said, I always prefer staying in to going out. Although at
times it isn't the healthiest thing for me.
After a particularly rough week at work, and really just wanting to hold up all weekend,
I decided to go out and shop a bit.
I loved thrifting, and I figured that it would be a good way to get myself to leave the
house and challenge my fears.
I went to two thrift stores and didn't really get anxious at all so I decided to push my
luck.
I chose to go to one more store that I wanted to go to before heading home.
So I popped into this antique store and shopped around for a bit.
I found a couple of fun pieces and I headed to the register with them.
Something I need to note here is that three people own this store.
On the weekends, there is usually one owner present at the register who is this lovely
petite woman.
I was at the register with my items and chatting about what I had found with the woman when
two men walked up to the front door.
One of the men was tall and lanky. The other was short and stalky.
These men looked rough, but I wasn't on guard at first.
The area the antique store was in was closer to downtown, so it wasn't abnormal to see
people out and about.
The shorter guy opened the door and shouted, hey, is the headhuncho here?
Asking for the male owner.
The woman at the register calmly told him, the headhunch show here?" Asking for the male owner. The woman at the register calmly told him,
the headhunt show is unfortunately off today.
At this point, I got this gut feeling
that something was going on with these men.
I thought my best option was to stay at the register
with the woman until the men left.
I felt like I was getting this gut feeling to protect her.
I didn't realize that the gut feeling was to protect me.
Once I thought that they would be leaving this woman alone, I checked out and quickly
walked to my car.
I was two parking spaces away from my car when I heard a voice behind me calling out.
Excuse me, Miss.
I was already terrified and I immediately went into
fight-or-flight, which we all know could also be free, or fawn.
It wound up to be fawn, in this case. I stopped and turned, only to see the short stocky
man from the antique store that I just exited. He approached me and said that he needed money to pay for
a prescription medication for his leg pain. He attempted to comfort me by saying that
he couldn't run after me because of this leg pain, as if that was supposed to bring
me some comfort. Before I could even respond or react, he pulled his license out to show
me that he lived in the area. He pointed up the hill and said,
see that library? Yeah, I live right behind it.
I live in the blue house that looks like crap.
You can't miss it. As he was telling me this,
I noticed that he was getting closer to me so I was panicking.
At this point, I was being overly nice and saying
whatever I could to try and get out of this
situation safely. I reached into my wallet, pulled out a $10 bill, and I told him that I hoped
it would help. Assuming that that was the end of it, I started to turn and leave.
But he stopped me again.
I don't mean to get fresh with you, but you're a very beautiful woman, he perred.
I frozen my tracks.
I thought this interaction would be done after giving him money, but now he was trying
to hit on me, or maybe he had something even worse on his mind.
I don't even want to think about it.
He continued talking and asked me where I lived.
I lied and said that I lived in a nearby town.
He asked me about my age if I was married if I had a boyfriend.
I fielded these questions as best as I could, but if I'm being honest, it was kind of a blur.
I was scared the interaction could go south at any moment.
As the conversation finally dwindled down, the man said, I'm happy to have found a kind soul like you to help me today.
Now I felt a shred of hope that I'd leave this unscathed,
so I mustered up all the sincerity that I could and told him that I hoped he got better.
Before I could even start to move away, the man grabbed me and jerked me in for a hug.
He asked for a kiss and jerked me in for a hug.
He asked for a kiss, and then started leaning in.
I was able to break free of his grip and shout it.
No.
He laughed as I ran to my car to get in.
I immediately locked the doors and looked down for a split second just to take a breath.
But when I looked back up, the man was gone.
It was as if he vanished into thin air, with an injured
leg. I called my friend and cried the entire drive home. My friend dismissed it and said that I was
overreacting. They said that the guy probably just wanted money for drugs, but I wasn't having it.
This man knew that he was making me uncomfortable, but he continued to push my boundaries and
enter my space.
He even hit on me and tried to assault me, as my discomfort grew.
I'm fortunate that I was able to get out of the situation okay, but I know of so many
other stories where people did not.
So to the stocky man who spotted me at the antique store and decided that I was an easy target, let's never meet again,
because next time I won't be kind.
I'm a 35 year old-old female in Canada.
This story happened when I was 14 in a small town in the mountains, where everybody knew
everybody.
My mom was admitted to the hospital because she had an asthma attack and had to stay there
for a few days.
My mom has always had trouble with her breathing and she typically ends up in the hospital
at least once a year.
My parents were separated, so whenever my mom needed to go to the hospital, either my
dad or one of my mom's friends would stay with me and my sister.
In this particular instance, my mom had an asthma attack that came on so suddenly that
my sister and I were unable to contact our father or anyone else to stay with us. I convinced my mom that I was old enough to take care of my sister this time and
she agreed. She kind of had to, as there was no other choice. She arranged for our neighbor
to check on us from time to time, but other than that, my sister and I were all by ourselves
in our house. On our second day of being alone after school, my sister and I decided to take a 30-minute
walk to the hospital to see our mom and bring her a few things that she needed from home.
We had a little visit with her, and then we left to head back home before it got dark.
The hospital in our town is in the opposite direction of the downtown area.
It's located more in the
outskirts of the suburbs, think large houses spaced a good distance apart with lots of trees
and quiet roads. While we were walking home, a cab stopped and the driver asked if we needed
a ride. I told the driver that we didn't have any money just a bank card, and he said that
he would give us a ride because he was going in the direction that we didn't have any money just a bank card, and he said that he would
give us a ride because he was going in the direction that we were going.
Being 14 and from a small town, I didn't see a problem with accepting a ride from a seemingly
friendly cab driver.
I figured it was his job, after all.
It wasn't like we were hopping into some stranger's vehicle, right?
We got in the backseat of the cab and gave him our address.
The driver looked at us through his rear-view mirror and started asking questions about
where we were coming from and why.
My sister being only 10 at the time told the man about our mom being in the hospital and
how I was watching her. I saw the camp
driver's eyes shift in the mirror to me as if he was having a revelation.
Oh, so you two girls are going to be home alone?" he confirmed.
I felt a growing knot in my stomach and a voice in my head was telling me to lie.
I spoke up before my sister could elaborate.
I said that our dad would be joining us at our house later in the evening.
The cab driver asked why our father didn't drive us to see our mom and other questions.
He was definitely fishing for information.
He wasn't really buying what I was saying, because then he asked in a very unconvinced
sarcastic tone.
Well, who is your father?
I responded.
Lyle Kozak.
Then, the cab drivers hold demeanor changed.
I watched his eyes in the rear view mirror as they filled with worry.
I know your father. he sheepishly responded.
Side note.
I always knew my dad was a little crazy.
My dad has always had a reputation for being a bit of a fly off the handle, hot-headed
kind of person, and I could tell that this man was genuinely afraid of him.
After that, the cab driver didn't say another word and just dropped us off.
We never said anything about it to our parents at the time, but a few years later, my father
and I were having a visit and talking, when that day popped into my head.
I told him about the strange interaction, and I described the man as best as I could remember
and due to living in such a small town, my dad knew exactly who I was talking about.
My dad told me that this man's name was Sam and he was a registered sex offender.
So that's the day that my father's name may have saved mine and my sister's life.
So Sam, I hope you were never able to use your job
to prune other children.
And let's not meet again. The
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I don't know.
Hey, it's Brett DeBenn from the fan morning show.
Ben, your guy loves to travel,
telling about a trip you took this summer.
I love to travel, I love to hang out with friends,
I love to watch live sports, I hate organizing. There's nothing worse than having to figure out hotel rooms for five different guys.
So what I did this summer was I got an Airbnb. We went down south, watched a couple of baseball games.
Everybody got their own individual bedroom, but then we all got back together in the kitchen for
breakfast for dinner. It was a spectacular experience.
Whenever I am booking a golf trip with buddies, the first thing I think of is big communal
eating space. Airbnb's always give us that in spades. You have a big kitchen. You can
usually cook breakfast as a team, clean up as a team's a little harder to convince people
to do, but it is such a big part of the buddies trip to me to me having a communal area to eat in and Airbnb makes it so easy. Yes, so whether you're like us traveling with friends or maybe
you're traveling with your family for watching sports, maybe playing some sports, you'll get more space
and privacy with our friends at Airbnb. This happened back in the early 2000s while I was attending college in Austin, Texas.
For reference, I'm a female, petite and stature, and at the time I was about 19.
I lived in the condo complex close to the campus that was sandwiched between two bars.
The first floor of my complex was a parking garage, and I lived on the fourth floor. I was working as a waitress at a nearby restaurant and had gotten off of work at around 10 at night.
I was excited because I had been let go early enough to meet up with my friends who were
hanging out close by at another friend's house.
My plan was to run home, go upstairs and change, then grab my dog. He was a 13-year-old
Cocker Spaniel who had been in our family since he was a puppy. He was sweet, and he would never hurt
a fly. This was back in 2003 when you could take the face off of your CD player in your car so
that nobody would steal it. Usually, I would take the face of the stereo with me when I parked my car.
But this night, since I was only going to be a few minutes, I took it off and stuffed
it in the glove compartment before I headed upstairs.
I was only gone for about 5 minutes when my dog Toby and I headed back down.
Toby was leechless, as we were walking down the stairs to my car. As we got to the bottom
of the stairs, I opened the gate to the parking garage and froze. There was somebody sitting
in my driver's seat. I stood there frozen not knowing what to do. I looked next to the
car, and I noticed one of the windows was broken, and there was glass all over the
ground. That's when the man in the car noticed me. He slowly got out, and casually walked
away from my car like nothing had happened. Now this is when my fighter flight kicked
in. I should have left well enough alone, but this was not the first time someone had broken into my car
and tried to steal my stereo. I also had two bikes stolen from the bike rack in this
garage, so anger took over instead of fear. I walked up to my car and I saw the stereo
pulled out, and the face of the stereo sitting on the passenger seat. I turned to the man in growl.
Hey, what do you think you're doing?
But to be honest, there were a lot of curse words involved.
The man looked shocked and claimed.
I thought it was my friend's car.
I got even louder hoping that any bar patrons
from the bars on either side of the parking structure
would hear me.
There's broken glass everywhere. You broke into my car!"
Then I continued cursing at him. The man seemed surprised by my anger and put his hand into
his pocket to reach for something. My guess is that it was probably a weapon of some sort.
But I was seeing red, and I didn't even stop to think of what this man would have on him.
All the while, I was still screaming and cursing at him.
The moment he went into his pocket, my sweet little wooden her to fly, Goodboy Toby,
started loudly growling and snarling at him.
Toby could obviously sense my anger and the uneasiness in my voice. The man took
one look at Toby, and then took off running. Toby, still not being on a leash, took off
running after him. Toby chased him through the parking garage and around to the front
of the building. I was right behind them, yelling more expletives as loudly as I possibly could to get anyone's
attention.
The man ran behind one of the bars into a dark alley as I was catching up to my dog.
I finally came to my senses and decided it was probably best not to follow him.
To the man who broke into my car, those many years ago, that I thought that I could take
on, let's never meet again.
And to my sweet dog Toby, I can't wait to meet you again on the other side.
Thank you for protecting me that night. You are never forgotten.
After closing the biggest sales deal of my career, I decided to finish the remainder
of my work day at my favorite local bar. This bar is always quite populated as it is
located amongst many office buildings. It's also near my boyfriend's office. He was
supposed to meet me there for lunch, but got too caught up with work, so I went solo. I ordered my favorite cocktail and a snack, as I continued working
away on my laptop. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw two men sitting at a table
staring at me. This wasn't out of the ordinary, since am a young fit woman and men are men, but I
immediately felt something was off.
Some time passed and both gentlemen tried to make conversation with me.
While being polite, I kept my answers brief.
Seemingly not thrilled with my lack of enthusiasm, one of the gentlemen came to the table and
started eating my snack.
This was Red Flag Number One because who starts eating somebody else's food?
He introduced himself, but we'll call him Rick.
Rick was asking me what I was doing, what I was working on, and where I was going that
day.
This was Red Flag Number 2.
After dodging my questions, Rick begged me to come to his table to meet his friend.
We'll call this friend Jim.
I'm not sure why, but I gave in against my better judgment.
I went to sit with them at their table and chat.
We got to talking and Jim introduced himself
as a hot shot attorney who was literally twice my age.
He even said that he had daughters who were my age,
which was Red Flag No. 3.
Some more time went by and Rick seemingly wanted to leave,
so he said goodbye and left me and Jim.
Jim paid the tab shortly after Rick left and decided that he wanted to take me to another bar.
By this point, I was drunk.
I stood up from the table and said that I wanted to go sit in my car to wait for my boyfriend to be done with work.
But Jim was insistent.
He grabbed my arm and we walked out of the bar together.
He grabbed my arm and we walked out of the bar together. He put me in his fancy sports car and said that, instead, he wanted us to go to a hotel after making a stop at his office. This was the ultimate red flag.
The alcohol wore off almost immediately and I knew that I was in danger. Before going up to his office, he asked at least half a dozen times if I'd still be there
when he came back.
I reassured him that I would, but once I saw him disappear around the corner, I bolted
out of the car.
I ran, I called my boyfriend, and then frantically asked him to come get me while I hit behind
some bushes.
My boyfriend sped over right away.
As I stepped out from behind the bushes trying to spot my boyfriend, Jim reappeared around
the corner and he was looking for me.
He approached me and said, come back baby, where are you going?
Before I could even respond or react, my boyfriend came speeding around the corner.
Jim saw the look of relief on my face and took off. I got incredibly lucky. If my boyfriend
didn't come to get me as quickly as he did, I don't know how much worse of a situation
I would have been in. I certainly learned a great life lesson that day. I owe my boyfriend literally everything.
I will never be returning to my favorite local bar after this.
I cannot fight the feeling that Jim had something majorly sinister planned.
So to all the creeps that lurk in bars, especially Rick and Jim, please, let's never meet again.
When I was in my late teens, I worked at a little coffee shop in my city.
This was around the same time that smartphones hit the scene.
I had just gotten my first phone and laptop around this time.
At this coffee shop, we had this one regular customer who was very eccentric.
He made me pretty uncomfortable if I'm being honest.
He had this strange vibe about him. He always wore many
layers, even during the scorching summers. He would wear this large parka with faux fur
trim. He always wore sunglasses so I never saw his eyes not even once. He would get out
of his car and run for the door using his big coat as a shield from the
sun.
Every single time he came in, he ordered almost every item on the menu but said that it wasn't
for him, as he didn't like the food personally.
One day he came in and ordered the entire menu as usual, and I was checking him out at the
cash register when he leaned in and said softly,
You seem like a nice young woman.
I need to warn you about something.
I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but keep this information to yourself.
Honestly, it weighs on my conscience.
What is it, I asked?
Do you have a computer or smartphone?
Yes.
Yeah, I have a laptop and a smartphone, I answered.
Get rid of them immediately.
He ordered sternly.
Um, why is that, I questioned.
I have a friend who has government ties.
Nothing is private.
The government will be monitoring everything.
He told me that they're
putting up concentration camps and some major US cities. He said that they'll use information
from smartphones to decide where everyone will go.
I've gotten rid of everything. I can't be traced and I'm planning on running away soon.
Please be safe," he urged. He left, and I just kind of shrugged him off. But what
he said still weighed heavy on my heart for a while. I ended up leaving that job and got
a job as a hostess at a restaurant. An entire year passed, and I had pretty much forgotten
about the strange encounter, until one day when we crossed paths again.
I was at the host stand in front, greeting guests and seating them at the restaurant when
a limousine pulled up and a man got out.
This man was accompanied by two large bodyguards, one at each side.
It was the guy from the coffee shop.
This time he was still wearing layers, but it was a sleek tuxedo, and he was wearing the same sunglasses that he always had.
Upon entering the restaurant, he said,
Do you remember me? I said that I did. Then he asked,
Do you remember what I said? I told him, yes.
He proceeded to pass the host stand to examine the restaurant as if he
were looking for something. After briefly looking the restaurant over, he signaled his bodyguards
to follow him out the back door. Before exiting the building, he looked back at me and said,
don't forget. Then he and his bodyguards got back into the limousine, and I never saw him again.
It was the strangest thing. How did he find me at my new job? And what was up with the
flashy appearance? This happened not so long ago, but I was just thinking of this recently and wondered what ever became of that man and who he was.
Around 10 years ago during my sophomore year of college, I moved out of my mom's place and into an
apartment in Chicago.
My new apartment was located on the city's south side near the University of Illinois.
I shared this three bedroom apartment with two roommates, Mike, who was a good friend
and Tom, who I had met through Mike.
One evening, about a month into our new living arrangement, I decided to meet some friends
at a central city bar, not far from our apartment.
The night was fun, I had a bit to drink and I was tipsy, but not exactly drunk.
I grabbed a cab around one in the morning, eager to rest in my bed.
When I entered our apartment,
Tom's room was empty, indicating that he was probably at his girlfriend's, and Mike
seemed to be in his room as evidenced by the glow of his TV.
As I was drifting off to sleep, the ring of our doorbell startled me. Given Mike's side
business of selling weed to sporadic late-night visitors,
I assumed it was one of his acquaintances. Through the intercom, a girl named Emma mentioned
that she was there from Mike. Despite thinking that this was just another instance of Mike,
and his aforementioned routines, I still felt weirded out by this.
Rather than letting her up through the intercom, I decided to walk down to the front door myself.
When I descended to our building's glass entrance door, I saw a young seemingly non-threatening
blonde girl wearing glasses.
I cracked the door open and I said hello as she repeated that she was there to see Mike.
The whole feel just seemed off.
My sketch levels continued to rise, but despite this I allowed her to follow me up.
As I led her inside I turned my head and noticed that instead of following me she stayed behind,
holding the door open.
It seemed like she was waiting for someone.
At this point I knew that something was off so I started to walk up the stairs faster.
At the turn of the stairs, I once again looked back, and that's when my heart jumped.
I almost wet my pants on the spot when I saw this menacing figure, a tall man with long
greasy hair, pale skin, and tattoos adorning both of his arms.
He was brandishing a pipe as he charged at me from below.
Fuelled by adrenaline, I sprinted upstairs and managed to close and lock my door in
one swift motion, right in this guy's face as he was only a stepper
to from entering the apartment. He then started pounding on the door with the pipe screaming,
come out here, and cursing. The pounding in the threats stopped a few moments later, and
I heard him descend the stairs and leave the building. When I relayed the terrifying event to Mike, he remembered a similarly odd encounter with Emma
earlier in the day. Unlike me, Mike just buzzed her in with no questions asked. Mike said that Emma
seemed confused and asked to see someone named Tim, which was neither of our names.
After exchanging our Emma stories, we decided to report the incident to the police.
They couldn't do much and deemed it a random attack. We experienced some lingering unease from
this, but to our leave, we never encountered Emma or her intimidating associate again. To Emma and
her associate, I hope that we never meet again.
I'm a male, and I always find it interesting when the occasional male-led story appears
on this show,
mainly because it's far less common. When I was in my 20s, I had more than a couple of instances
of much older women approaching me inappropriately. I'm not sure why, perhaps it was because I still
had a very boyish look at the time, but I was also clearly an adult. Older people tend to have interesting reactions
to youthfulness. One night, I was riding on a somewhat crowded Chicago transit authority
bus around Chicago by myself. I noticed an elderly woman had boarded the bus carrying this
enormous framed mirror. She was about five feet tall. She had long, stringy white hair, and seemed very
frail.
She was struggling to maneuver this huge thing down the aisle, so I offered to help carry
it, and I brought it over to her at her seat. She was appreciative, and quickly asked me
several personal questions such as my name, my profession, etc. Once the bus reached her stop without any hesitations, she said, I'm going to need more help with
this mirror.
She wanted me to help her bring it up to her apartment.
I told her I didn't have time to get off at the bus stop to help her up the stairs with
it.
She replied, that's okay.
I'll get it upstairs.
But can you come over tomorrow and help me mount it on the wall?
Even though she seemed relatively harmless and definitely a bit eccentric, I was a bit taken
aback. I had just met her, and she wanted to invite me to her home. It was strange. However,
on the other hand, I felt like helping an older person was the right thing to do,
so I wrote my name and number down for her, and I told her to call me the following day.
She thanked me and told me that her name was Angel.
Angel didn't even wait until the next day to give me a call.
She called me a few times that very night.
I missed these calls, but she did call the next day. I was creped
out by her persistence with calling me so I never answered any of these calls. She then left
me a voicemail.
Hey, it's Angel. I still need help with the mirror. Call me back.
Over the next week I would get a call every day and she would leave the same voice message.
But in each subsequent voicemail, her speech became increasingly gravely and weak.
It was creepy.
In the last voicemail that she ever left me, she didn't even mention the mirror.
All she said was, in a whisper, it's me, Angel.
I need you to take a picture of me."
And that was it. Now, I still feel conflicted about this whole encounter. She might have been
harmless, but her last message was enough to confirm that she may have had something odd or
possibly sinister in mind by inviting me over to her place.
So to Angel, the woman on the bus, let's not meet.
Back in 2018 I was pretty popular as a content creator on YouTube.
I started my channel in 2014,
but it didn't pick up until about 2016,
when I was 13 years old.
I primarily made content catering to young girls,
such as DIYs, Q&As, and vlogs.
But since I was also a girl posting videos of myself online,
this naturally attracted some unwanted attention.
I lived in a pretty small town in Florida my whole childhood. Let me preface by saying,
where I lived was not a touristy spot. Although it's close to Orlando,
travelers don't usually come to my town unless they're visiting someone specifically like
family or just passing through, which is important to remember for later.
When my YouTube channel hit 100,000 subscribers, I hosted a giveaway on Instagram to celebrate.
The prize at stake wasn't anything too grand, it was just a t-shirt that I had designed
as merch and
some stickers from a company I partnered with.
I selected one winner at random from a lottery of people who commented on Instagram for the
giveaway post.
It happened to be a fan who had been commenting on my videos and Instagram posts pretty frequently.
Let's call him Joseph. I had never replied, reacted, or
interacted with any of Joseph's comments, because his profile made it clear that he was
an older man in his mid-40s or so. But he had never commented anything harmful or inappropriate,
so I never had any reason to block him. Rules are rules, so I messaged him and let him know that he was the winner.
Upon messaging him, I realized that he had been messaging me almost every day for the
past few months.
I had obviously not been responding because I avoided looking at my DM requests for safety
reasons.
Scrolling through the messages I was immediately very concerned that I had opened a dangerous
can of worms by messaging him, thus allowing him to continue to message me.
Joseph's prior messages ranged from full-on pleas to be my friend, to calling me an
ageist for not responding to him to random trauma dumps about his day-to-day life.
I vividly remember that in his messages he would constantly bring up his pet cat,
who was a beautiful calico.
He did this in an attempt to win my friendship.
He also sent photos of his cat looking out a window,
captioning that she was upset for me being
so mean to him.
I should have instantly unsent the giveaway message, but I was scared that doing so would add
more fuel to the fire, besides Joseph had viewed the message within seconds of me alerting
him that he had won the giveaway.
To my surprise, interacting with him went really normal.
At first, he gave me his address, which was in Canada, and then he let me know that he
was ecstatic to be the winner of the giveaway.
I felt better about the whole situation after discovering how far away he lived from me.
So I shipped the package with zero concerns.
Now it's important to note that my return address was a PO box that I had set up to receive
fan mail in the city my dad worked in.
I didn't have a PO box in my hometown.
The messages from Joseph continued, but I tried to ignore them no matter how annoying
the notifications were.
After all, I received a lot of requests containing strange messages in my DMs.
Many of the messages were easy to ignore since they weren't in my inbox, but due to having
to correspond with him for the giveaway, Joseph was now in my main inbox. I would avoid opening Joseph's messages
so that he wouldn't see that I had read his long paragraphs. In my notification previews,
I could see him go on lengthy rants about how badly he wanted to be friends,
and how unfair it was that I wasn't responding to him. A couple of times, he even threatened to harm himself
if I didn't convince him not to. This was very scary to me as a young 14-year-old girl on the internet.
When he received his giveaway prize, Joseph posted photos of himself wearing the shirt that I
designed. He also posted a picture of his cat with the stickers on his feed and tagged me.
I stupidly liked the post in an effort to be nice, but this opened up the floodgates,
and he messaged me dozens of times thanking me for liking his post and telling me that I was his
idol. He even said that he started crying when he saw that I liked his post because he loved me so much.
Now, I got used to ignoring his dozens of messages begging me to let him be my friend every single day,
and that went on for a year. Then, the physical mail started to show up. Joseph began sending
packages to my PO box first. He sent me candy and snacks, all
of which I promptly threw away for extremely obvious reasons. He then began sending
other mail, including lengthy letters describing how much he admired me. Now none of it was
sexual or romantic, but he was constantly saying that he wanted to be my
friend and that I was his role model.
He even sent me framed photos of his cats and other souvenirs from Canada.
I was thoroughly creeped out by the packages I was receiving on a monthly basis.
Something I should note here is that I am the oldest sibling of four.
A lot of what I was doing online
was unsupervised by my parents, both of whom worked nine to fives. So at this point I decided
to tell them. They brushed it aside and said that it was my fault for posting online.
My dad sent Joseph a few messages from my account, threatening to take legal action if
he didn't leave me alone, and then we blocked him.
Unfortunately, this was back in the days when someone could easily create an account to
circumvent being blocked.
So Joseph created a new account and began sending me dozens of angry threatening messages,
claiming to be heartbroken by the fact that I blocked him, my own biggest fan.
I decided it was useless to block his new account, and I figured that since his new account
was in my message requests, he would probably think that I wasn't seeing any of his messages,
and then he would give up.
This ended up being very far from the truth.
Not only was he ignited to send even more messages, but he also
started commenting on my Instagram and YouTube posts about how mean I was for hurting him
as a fan. He kept saying that he only wanted to be my friend. He also mailed me multiple
handwritten letters apologizing for his behavior and claiming that he'd leave me alone if I just
give him one more chance to be friends. I never engaged with him. I simply collected screenshots,
ignored all of his messages and comments, and tried to make it seem as if I had no clue what he was
doing. During the fall of my freshman year of high school, he messaged me a couple of times about
how he was planning to visit Florida. He was asking for suggestions on what to do. When I didn't respond, he
feigned annoyance and began outlining his plans. He claimed to be visiting Orlando, which
was the closest major city to my small town. I continued to ignore him.
By the time his trip arrived, I had nearly forgotten about monitoring
the messages that he had been sending me because I was busy with midterms. I only looked
at his messages because I was trying to keep a record of some of the weird things that
he would say in case I ever had to get the police involved. One day I opened his message request while at school and my stomach dropped.
He said that he decided to visit my small town instead of Orlando.
He then sent photos of my local mall, which was less than a five minute walk away from
my school.
This was eerie because as I said before, nobody comes to visit my town.
There's nothing here.
A few hours went by and I had really forgotten about Joseph and was being driven home by
my best friend's mom, who drove a distinct bright blue car. She dropped me off a few
houses down from mine and I walked to my home. Only slightly hesitating at the sight of
an unfamiliar car parked right in front of my house.
I went inside and did my homework for a few hours, enjoying the quiet comfort of being
home alone.
Then, I checked my phone.
I noticed that Joseph had sent me one long message and two photos.
The message read, I'm having a great time on my trip so far.
After I was done checking out the mall,
I went to your street to take photos.
As I was taking some great nature shots,
I saw a girl who looked exactly like you,
get out of a bright blue car.
Was it you?
This just happened to be right in front of this house.
I didn't approach you because I wasn't sure if it was you, and I would never want to
invade your privacy.
This is all such a crazy coincidence.
The two photos attached were of my house.
The message made me sick.
This was not a coincidence.
My street was not a very picturesque street.
In fact, there was a very picturesque spot a few streets over where a lot of people in
my town go for prom or special occasion photos. That would have been a street where I would
understand why somebody would want to stop simply to take photos. But not my street. And again, my town is not a tourist town.
I called my dad who came rushing home from work. Joseph and the random unknown car parked outside
of the house were gone by the time that he arrived. I'm unsure of how long the car was parked there
since I was too scared to look outside after seeing the message.
My dad called the police, but there was nothing they could do since Joseph hadn't really
violated any laws.
There wasn't even any proof that he had come to my street just to see me.
I have no idea how he found out what my address was.
As I said before, my PO box was in a city that my dad commuted to for work, and my
parents are vigilant about having their information removed from the white pages. Joseph was,
once again, blocked on all platforms, but not before my dad sent him another strongly
worded message, threatening that there would be serious consequences if I wasn't left
alone. The last piece of mail I ever received from Joseph was a 15-page handwritten letter,
as well as the t-shirt that he had initially won in my giveaway.
There was also another framed photo of his cat, who he said had unfortunately passed.
I never bothered to read the letter, just for the sake of preserving my own sanity,
but I did keep it somewhere in my garage as potential evidence in case the police ever needed to investigate. Joseph used to create new Instagram accounts every few months and message me apologies
from those. He did this up until Instagram updated their features to allow you to block any accounts created by someone that you're trying to block.
He's been completely blocked on Instagram since.
I've dealt with a couple of other weird stalkers since then, including people posting my
address, sending me death threats, and finding out about my friend's information to harass
them.
But this instance really sticks out the most most because not only did Joseph find out my personal
information, but he also had the nerve to fly to a different country, to stalk a young
girl outside of her house.
I moved to a different stay for college when I turned 18 and I haven't had too many stalker
encounters since.
I also no longer post as often as I did before on any of my social
media accounts, but every few months there are new comments left on my old YouTube videos
that reach strikingly similar to how Joseph used to message and comment. I know he's still
out there, and he is still interacting with my content. No matter how many times I try blocking him, he finds a way to be in my life.
I just hope he learned his lesson, and he'll never try to meet me again.
If he does, I'm in my 20s now, and I'm not a scared teenager anymore.
So I'll have no problem putting him in his place.
Joseph, let's never meet again.
Thanks everyone for listening. 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'd like to get access yourself, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's
not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today and get access to a whole heap
of bonus content you've never heard before.
This week you have heard 5 kids home alone by even marketing 3752 and TeakStore Encounter
by Lilly.
Our dad's name saved us by Mel, to Toby by Sonia.
Local Bar Lerkers by Anonymous Emma and her associate by Derrick, mysterious man at
the coffee shop by Baby Squid 22,ages from Angel by the cameraman and finally,
my biggest fan by YouTube girl. 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. As always,
if you have a story to share, make sure you send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
Finally, don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts, like Odd Trails,
my True Paranormal Podcast, welcome to Paradise It Sucks, and the Old Time Radiocast, all at
crypticcountypodcasts.com, or wherever you get your podcasts.
We'll see you all next week.
Everyone, stay safe. I grew up in a very small town in eastern Texas.
This was around 2006 when I was 16.