Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 12x26: I Unknowingly Hung Out with a Murderer

Episode Date: June 24, 2024

Upcoming LNM Live Tour Dates: 8/10/24 : San Diego, CA @ House of Blues: GET YOUR TICKETS 8/11/24 : Los Angeles, CA @ The Moroccan Lounge: GET YOUR TICKETS 8/18/24: Sacramento, CA @ Harlow’s: GET YOUR TICKETS 9/19/24: Salt Lake City, UT @ Metro Music Hall: GET YOUR TICKETS More Dates to be announced soon! Stories in this episode: Chased on the Backroads of Southeast Oklahoma | OptimisticDingo (0:39) I Unknowingly Hung Out With a Murderer | AshleySchaefferWoo (7:12) The time I regretted smiling at a neighbor | SativaDivaInLaVida (13:53) Psycho Uber | nanabubb (17:24) Almost Kidnapped by The Ice Cream Man | basicRedditGirl (21:00) Stranger Hiding in My Hotel Room | Msommervillej (25:46) The Summer of '87 | _Earthenware (32:04) Now I'm Terrified of Graveyard Shifts | Xiaven (37:05) Luckily my macho stupidity didn't get me killed. | mschall1005 (41:50) Extended Patreon Content: Chased Down Backroads | Emily The $80,000 Guy | Jenny "I'm Not Following You" | Jia Bad Intentions | bakerswife79 The Almost Ass Kicking | Thea Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Follow: - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts!    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! 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 [e-mail].     

This podcast contains adult language and content. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. Sometime, while I was in high school, I found myself in a nearby town on a date attempting to impress a girl whom I had been secretly crushing on for quite some time. We'll call her Anna. Anna and I just had a really nice evening, and we were winding down and getting ready to go home.

This took place in rural southeast Oklahoma, and we had about an hour or so of travel time before getting back to her house. I was enjoying my time with her and I was quite looking forward to the conversation and anything else that might transpire on the way home. The night ended with our hearts racing and us struggling to catch our breath, but not in the way that you might expect from two hormonal teenagers on a Friday night. After dinner and a movie, I stopped at a local Love's gas station to fill up my truck with

gas. I didn't have a credit card at the time, so I pulled up to the pump, left Anna in the truck, and went inside to pay for my gas. On the way inside I noticed this old beaten up Ford F-250 with two guys in it staring at me. A beaten up Ford wasn't an uncommon sight in rural Oklahoma, but the constant staring made me feel a bit uneasy. When I returned to my truck, Anna informed me that they had been staring at her too, and they were giving her the creeps.

I told her that they were probably just bored and messing with us, so I didn't think too much of it. After I got gas, I pulled out onto the street, pulled my truck into the turn lane, and then began to turn onto Highway 3, which would take me to Anna's house. The light was red, and it was taking ages to turn. This was typical, as everything in small town Oklahoma seems to move slower than a snail in molasses. As we were waiting at the light, we noticed a truck pull up next to us.

At first, we paid the truck no mind, but something was off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something off putting. We turned and looked, and to our dismay, it was the same beaten up Ford F-250, with now three guys in the cab all intently staring directly at us. Being the zealous teenagers that we were, we decided to show these guys what we were made of. As the light turned green, we were, we decided to show these guys what we were made of. As the light turned green, we rolled down our window, flashed a big smile across our

faces, and then gave them the biggest middle finger that we could. We wanted to show them exactly what we thought of their unnecessary, endless staring. We then hit the gas and continued on our way. A few moments passed with me and Anna laughing at what we just did to these idiot creeps, but that moment faded as we began talking about something else. We continued down the road a few miles before we noticed a set of headlights coming from behind us. This road wasn't super busy, but we had just come from a larger town, so there wasn't anything off about there being lights behind us.

However, after a few minutes passed, we realized there was something wrong with this. The headlights began flashing and their brights were blinding us. They also began swerving all over the road until they eventually pulled up on the left lane to try and get beside us. We quickly realized who this was. I'm by no means a car guy, but I recognized the shape of the hood of the truck. It was that same F-250. Now they were pissed. They were coming for us.

At this point in my life, I was about 5'8 and weighed just 115 pounds soaking wet. I was a little guy. And I knew that I stood no chance against three larger guys. I knew I was going to get pummeled into oblivion or worse. And we had no idea what they would plan to do with Anna. So I slammed on the gas and began traveling as fast as I could down the windy back roads of southeast Oklahoma, trying to come up with an idea to get us out of this mess. As we sped down the highway, I began to look for common landmarks that I knew of on Highway 3, but I didn't see them.

I knew that we had been traveling for quite some time down this road, but it didn't seem the same. That's when I realized that we weren't even on the right road. Blinded by our hubris, we had taken the wrong turn. We turned onto a narrow country road that was certain to lead us to our death. We didn't know what to do, so we continued traveling as fast as we could down the small, windy back road. We had a few near misses with the truck as they were attempting to rear end us, or at

least make us believe that that's what they were trying to do. But finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, we saw our shining beacon of light. I can't remember the specifics, but somehow we got far enough ahead of them that we began to think that we might lose them. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a small local church. Anna checked behind us and couldn't see their headlights, so I slammed on the brakes and killed the lights on my truck.

In the pitch darkness, I drove off the road, through the lawn of the church and behind the building. It was a risky move. We sat there panicking, wondering if they had seen us. For all we knew, we could be stuck at this church, and if they saw us, we might not have a chance to escape. We sat and watched as the F-250 passed us down the road at an incredible speed. They hadn't seen us.

passed us down the road at an incredible speed. They hadn't seen us. Anna and I breathed a sigh of relief as we waited to see if they would turn around. After a few moments passed, we hadn't seen them, so we pulled out of the parking lot and kicked it into high gear. We got back to town as quickly as we could. We both learned a lesson in flipping off shady people at night, and to my knowledge, we haven't done so since. To the creepy guys and the busted up F-250, let's not meet again. If you are into true crime, you may have heard this story before, or at least the main details.

I've seen it covered several times myself. Here's some context. This event happened 11 years ago. I had just turned 18 and moved to Orange County, California. I moved into an apartment complex near the community college that I was attending. That means that a bunch of younger people around my age were living there. I didn't know a single person in California, so I would take any opportunity to socialize and meet new people.

A big gathering place at the complex was at the main pool where people would drink and relax in the sun. Over the first few months, I would meet a bunch of people while hanging out at the pool. I never got super close to any of them, but I would see the same people several days a week. We would often go back to each other's apartments after the pool to drink or smoke and hang out some more. It was a mellow and fun environment.

Three people I would see all the time were Sarah, Mike, and John. One day, after hanging out at the pool, Sarah, my girlfriend and I, went back to the apartment. The three of us smoked for a bit, and then Sarah went back home. It was a regular day. The next day we were at the pool, and there were a few of the usual people missing. But there was still a solid ten people hanging around, so we didn't notice much of a difference in the overall vibe.

We went home later that night and my girlfriend got a call from one of our friends. My girlfriend playfully answered the phone, but the expression on her face quickly started to change. She was listening and her eyes were growing wide. After a while she said, What the fuck? Are you serious? And then hung up the phone.

I was confused, so I asked what happened? My girlfriend replied, the police found Sarah dead in Mike's apartment, and Mike is nowhere to be found. It was insane. I asked her if anything else was said, but she told me that whoever called her was hard to understand. We went to bed after that.

The next day we met up with the usual crowd at the pool, which included John and his fiance. We were all talking about how unbelievable this all was. Sarah was the epitome of sweet and Mike was easily one of the kindest people I had ever met. He was one of the first people that I met when I moved, and he gave me a beer even though I was underage and told me stories. These were both good people. It didn't make any sense. We all kind of started speculating, just trying to make sense of it, and nobody could get a hold of Mike. We were worried since we were unsure if he was safe. Somebody suggested that Mike may have killed Sarah, panicked and ran.

That was a hard pill for most of us to swallow, but it was the only thing that made sense. John shook his head and said, man, this is just awful. Then we all dispersed and went home. This would be the last time that I would see most of those people. Fast forward about a month or two later. One evening I was hanging out in my apartment when my girlfriend frantically called me. Please come to my friend's apartment.

You're not going to believe this shit. This is the most fucked up shit I've ever experienced," she said. I rushed over to the apartment where my girlfriend was. She was with two friends that we knew from the pool. One of them was crying hysterically, while the other sat with him. My girlfriend motioned for me to go outside, while the other friend stayed back to keep consoling the guy who was crying. Once we were out of earshot she told me why her friend was crying so intensely.

Her friend had just got back from being with the police. He was asked to identify pieces of a dismembered body that were found in this sewer. He was crying because he positively identified the body parts as Mike's. How did the police know that they were there? Well, they knew because John told them he did it. It turns out John was and still is a broke piece of shit. That bastard was engaged and didn't have the money for his wedding. Being a much smarter person, Mike had a bunch of money saved up, and John found out about

this money and decided to kill him and steal it. John was an acting student and asked Mike to help him move some heavy things at the theater. When Mike's back was turned, John shot him. Then he took Mike to another location where he dismembered his body and dumped the remains in the sewer. John took Mike's keys and phone and then went back to Mike's apartment. From there, he texted Sarah on Mike's phone,

asking for her to come over because he wanted to talk. Being the sweet and caring person that she was, Sarah went over to Mike's apartment to see what he needed. When she got there, John snuck up behind her and shot her. He left the apartment and framed Mike for Sarah's murder. John was caught because he was a stupid fucking idiot. He paid some kid to withdraw money from Mike's bank account at an ATM. The cops then found the kid, and he told them about John.

After that, they quickly tracked down John while he was at his bachelor party. He was immediately taken for questioning, where he would admit that he murdered Sarah and Mike. He would later be sentenced to death. After the sentencing, Mike's dad spoke to John across the courtroom and said, My only regret is that the state of California doesn't allow me to kill you myself. It was also revealed that his fiance tried to help him hide evidence so she was sentenced and had to do the same time as well.

All in all, this was pretty dark. Aside from the violence, what messes me up is that the guy had just literally murdered two of our friends. He was at the pool commiserating with us. He was genuinely acting upset, sad, and confused about the whole thing. He's a horrible human, and I hope that he suffers for the rest of his life. My deepest condolences will continue to go out to the families of the two innocent people that were killed. I grew up in a relatively safe city in Arizona.

Before I or any of my friends had a driver's license, we would walk everywhere just to get out of our houses and do something. A typical outing for us would entail going to the Circle K for a soda or snacks, or going to the Walmart and Target to browse around. One time, when two of my friends and I were 15, we were walking back to one of their houses. We were walking through the neighborhood around sunset. At that time, everyone in Arizona was fairly friendly, so whenever you would pass by another person or a group, you would exchange polite hellos or waves. This time, in particular, we were walking past a house on a corner that had a kitchen

light on, where a middle-aged man was washing his dishes. When we made eye contact, my natural instinct was to smile and my friends was to wave, which turned out to be a bad idea. The man immediately dropped his dishes in the sink and in what felt like one second, he was outside on the corner staring at us. He took an aggressive stance and had both of his hands balled into fists. All of our fight or flight responses were completely different. One friend immediately took off running in the other direction.

My other friend peed his pants and was frozen in complete fear. Then he started charging towards us in full force. I'm so grateful that my friend, who ran, came back and grabbed my arm. We all started running as fast as we could. I was so scared. The man was well built and appeared to be in great shape so he had no trouble catching up to us. As I was running, I could hear his footsteps very closely behind me.

He reached his hand out and tried to grab a hold of my hair but my adrenaline finally kicked in and I was able to speed off beyond his grip. After a while of running, we realized that we were no longer being chased so we hid somewhere safe and called my friend's mom to tell her what happened. We asked her to pick us up and gave her the location of the house that the man ran out of. The three of us all vowed to never go near that house again. The next morning, we woke up and my friend's mom explained that she checked the address

of the house. She said that someone living there was a registered offender. I'm not sure if it was explicitly because of this incident, but my friend and her family moved out of that neighborhood very shortly after this. Our moms collectively agreed that we were not allowed to walk around anyone's neighborhood by ourselves anymore. And they decided that if we go out, a parent needed to be close by. I completely forgot about this until recently.

I was talking to a friend and she brought it up. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if the man had gotten a better grip on my hair, but I'm glad that I'll never have to know. I'm thankful to say that we got away unharmed. I'm 27 now and I carry a pocketknife and pepper spray with me at all times. I'm a 23-year-old female. About two years ago, a friend of mine, who's a 24-year-old female, and I planned to go to an event together. We only had free time after work, so we decided to go straight there after we were off.

We got an Uber so that we wouldn't have to stress out about driving ourselves since we wanted to focus on enjoying the event a bit more. The first part of the ride was normal. The Uber driver seemed like an ordinary, polite guy. But as soon as we got onto the highway, his attitude changed. He was instantly irritable and seemed pretty angry. My friend and I tried not to pay too much mind to it. We just continued chatting amongst ourselves. Our attention was drawn away from our conversation when our driver started shouting at another driver.

He turned to us and said that he was going to pull over. I tried to object and say that we needed to get to this event, but he ignored me and pulled over anyway. Then he reached into the glove compartment, and he pulled out a gun. It's important to note that guns are illegal in my country. My friend and I were in complete shock. We were just watching this unfold as we held our breath. When the other driver that our Uber driver was yelling at drove away, we let out a sigh of relief.

But we were still stuck in the car with a crazy man that had a gun. After that, he pulled back onto the road and continued driving. He apologized to us and explained that the guy was tailgating him. After that, he pulled back onto the road and continued driving. He apologized to us and explained that the guy was tailgating him. He said, that guy was lucky that you two girls are here, or else I would have followed him and I would have shot him in the face. I looked over at my friend. She was stunned and she froze.

I was stunned too, but I tried to keep my cool since the last thing I wanted was for him to get annoyed with us. If he was willing to shoot some guy for tailgating, I didn't know what he would have done to us if either of us said the wrong thing. No, it's okay, I understand, I said, trying to appease him. You know, guys like that need to be taught a lesson, he continued as I silently nodded in the back seat. I've done it before, you know.

I've cornered a guy in an empty street, and when he stepped out of the car, bang. Did he just admit to shooting or possibly murdering someone? I thought to myself. This thought was the only thing running through my mind, but I still managed to keep my calm. I just remained agreeable with him for the rest of the ride. A few minutes later, he dropped us off in the right place without further incident. I waited a few weeks to report him as I was worried since he had my home address. I figured if I said something too soon,

it wouldn't have been hard for him to figure out who reported him. After reporting this experience to Uber, thankfully, nobody ever showed up in my home with a gun. Uber replied to my report and said that they started an investigation. I hope the driver never did anything like this with any other passengers. It was 1991, the middle of summer in Galena Park, Texas. I am a female and I was 8 years old at the time. Being your typical 90s kid in the middle of Texas on a summer day, I went to the community

pool by myself which was more than a few streets away from my house. I think it was about a quarter of a mile. My parents weren't very good parents. My dad drank fairly often and my mom worked a lot to support the family. My mom taught me about stranger danger to the best of her ability, and I felt old enough to walk by myself. So I always felt safe walking around this little suburb of Houston, that is, before this happened.

To get to the pool, I walked down to the dead end of 8th Street to cross Main Street. Then, once I was around that dead end, I had to proceed down the rest of 8th Street before turning down another side road until I arrived at a big park to cut through. The pool was essentially just beyond the park. After swimming for an hour or so, I decided to walk back home. So I cut through the big park and headed down the side road that turned onto 8th Street. As I was walking, I heard the ice cream truck coming down the road.

He slowed down and I looked at the truck as it passed by. I noticed a woman in the back of the truck where the window to get an ice cream was. She waved at me and I waved back. The truck then turned onto 8th Street, so I thought no more of it. As I continued walking home, the ice cream truck came around again. This time it stopped next to me on the sidewalk, and the woman was now gesturing to me to come over to the window. I stood still staring, but I didn't say anything.

Do you want free ice cream? She called out. I shook my head no and started walking towards Main Street to cross the street to get home. The driver kept creeping alongside me as I walked. Come on, you look like you want an ice cream. We could give you a ride home. Aren't you hot?

Don't you want a ride home? The woman said. I had a bad feeling about them and I was terrified. Luckily, just then, another car pulled onto the road a little ways down, so the ice cream truck took off and turned onto Main Street. I was freaked out, thinking of stranger danger and contemplating about how, if I ran as fast as I could, I'd be able to make it across Main Street and home before the truck had a chance to come back around. I just truck had a chance to come back around.

I just knew it was going to come back around. I was freaking out and crying. I was struggling and trying to figure out what to do since I didn't want to be kidnapped. So I ran down the road and I stomped at a house where a kid I had played with before lived. I knocked on the door and kept looking up and down the road, terrified that the ice cream truck was going to come back any second. There was no answer at the door, but there was a little playhouse on the side of the yard.

So I hauled ass to the playhouse and hid inside as I tried not to piss my pants. Just as I was trying to calm myself down, I looked through the plastic window and I saw the ice cream truck coming down the road again very slowly. They didn't have their music playing. They were just creeping along. So I laid out flat on the ground and I prayed that they wouldn't see me. I don't know how long I was there, but it felt like an eternity.

When I finally found the courage to get up, I popped my head up and looked through the plastic window again. Thankfully, the truck wasn't around. After talking myself up a bit, I finally left the playhouse and ran like the wind the rest of the way home. I didn't stop. I didn't even look both ways to cross the street or anything. When I got home, I cried my eyes out, but my dad didn't take me seriously. This broke my heart.

He was a true asshole and an alcoholic. But when my mom got home, I told her what happened, and she called the police to report the incident. Nothing came of it, but I wasn't allowed to leave the house alone again until I was older. This happened in April 2008. I was 20 years old at the time living in Denver for a year-long work contract with a nonprofit in Boulder. My girlfriend, who is now my wife, and my best friend Tim, drove to Colorado from our home state to visit me for my 21st birthday. The nonprofit that I was working for housed their workers in dorm rooms and drinking wasn't

allowed on site, nor were visitors allowed to stay overnight. So I booked a hotel room in downtown Denver for the weekend, which enabled us to drink in honor of my 21st birthday. The hotel was big and very nice, and it was in a safe central area of the city. The hotel was so nice, in fact, that it was the same hotel that most of the politicians would later stay at during the Democratic National Convention of 2008 that took place in Denver later that summer. My wife and Tim arrived on Saturday morning.

We all met up at the hotel. We had a fantastic day. We drank our way across the city for most of the day before going back to the hotel at around 1 a.m. The room had a typical set up with two queen beds. Bed number one was close to a big window looking out across the city while bed number two was pushed against the wall with a door that opened up to the bathroom.

You couldn't see the door and the entryway to our room unless you were at the foot of bed one. When we were back at our room, we drank more and chatted until about 4 a.m. My wife was lying at the head of bed number two flipping through the channels on TV. Tim and I were seated at the head of bed number two flipping through the channels on TV. Tim and I were seated at the foot of bed one, staring out the window as we talked. As we were talking, I heard some movement and the sound of the door opening.

Without looking away from the window, I assumed that it was my wife getting up to use the bathroom. A few minutes passed, and I thought that I heard movement again. So I finally turned around to look, only to see my wife, who was still lounging on bed number two, as she had been. Did you get up a few minutes ago to use the restroom? I asked her. No, she replied. I thought I heard a door.

I hesitated with confusion in my voice. She looked back at me just as confused. Yeah, I thought I heard that too. Tim chimed in, shifting his gaze away from the window. It was then that my blood ran cold, which made me sober up pretty quick. Tim softly continued, I think that there's somebody else in the room with us. I lurched forward from the foot of the bed to look into the pitch black entryway. I could barely make it out and honestly, I wanted to believe that I wasn't seeing it.

But there was a man dressed in all black just standing there. Everything that he was wearing was black, including his baseball cap, and he was pressed into the ninety-degree corner of the entryway where the room door and the wall met. Absolute silence fell on the room. It felt like hours passed by as I started to panic. This officially confirmed that we were not alone and hadn't been for a while. And he knew that we spotted him. Eventually, Tim got the courage to meekly speak in the direction of the entryway. He said, hey man, is there something we can help you with?

Another period of silence that felt like an eternity passed by. He slumped off the edge of the wall and a little into the light, then made eye contact with me and Tim. We all just stared at each other. He eventually spoke up and asked, is this room 1709? No, it's not, Tim replied, stroking his beard nervously. The man stared at us for a while longer, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. He then turned around, opened the door, and walked out.

We then erupted into a million curse words as we paced around the room. I called the front desk. They said that they found him in the stairwell, but directed him back to the right room. They apologized and said that he was drunk. I was a little apprehensive about this, so minutes later, Tim called the front desk as well. The next person who picked up the phone told him that the man was not a guest

of the hotel. They explained that he was apprehended in the stairwell and taken into police custody. Then, a while later, my wife called the front desk, and the story changed again. They told my wife that he disappeared and had no idea who he was or what he was doing. They told her there wasn't even a room 1709 in the hotel. We still have no idea what that was all about, as we got three completely different stories from the front desk.

We also have no idea how he managed to get a key card to our room. We were sure that the door was closed and locked when we returned to our room after being out and about in the city that day. The door wasn't tampered with at all, so he had to have a key card somehow. It was easily the most terrifying moment of my life. Make sure to always use the latch in hotel rooms. We were refunded for our stay and given a $200 credit for food at the hotel. We should have pursued legal action since this was a really bizarre and dangerous situation, but we were young and

too frazzled to realize that that was even an option. I'm a 40-year-old male, and this happened when I lived in a small town in southern India. It was the summer of 87, and I was four years old. I remember like it happened yesterday. The schools were shut down for the summer break so my cousin, who lived in another city 100 miles away, would frequently visit. We always went out to play on summer afternoons, even when it was scorching hot. On this particular afternoon, we had found this massive pile of construction sand at

a nearby site where we would spend much of our time making sand castles and such. Right next to this massive pile of sand was a large water tank, built with poured concrete and filled to the brim with water. When we were bored with the sand, we sat by the large tank. At least, it appeared to us as large as we were small children. We looked at the water which appeared to be full of tadpoles. My older cousin was convinced that they were actually small fish. Neither of us could swim, so being cautious even at that age, we never ventured too close to the water in the tank.

That day, for a reason I don't recall, my cousin had to head back to his home 100 miles away, and he rather abruptly ended his stay with me and my family. I, being the only child, felt lonely after he left. With nothing else to do, I decided to head to the sand pile at the construction site and continue playing. When I got there, I saw another kid who was a bit older than I was. I had never seen this kid before. He was sitting by the water tank and

chucking a piece of stick tied to a rope into the water. He kept throwing the stick into the tank and pulling it back out. I was simply fascinated with this toy that he had. I love that he fashioned it himself using just a stick and some rope. I approached him to ask if I could join. For sure, he said. We then made up some rules for a game for us to play. The premise seemed rather impulsive, as if he were making it up on the spot.

Go sit at the other end of the tank,' he instructed. "'I'll chuck the stick end of the rope to you, and I'll hang on to the rope end. If you manage to catch the stick, then you win, and it'll be your turn to throw the stick. If it hits the water, you lose a point. Deal?' I agreed, and we started the game. I think I caught the stick a few times, but the other times it landed in the water.

He was losing so he kept shortening the throws which meant that I started having to reach out further and further for the stick. And after one fateful throw, I landed in the water. It was so sudden, I didn't even realize what was happening. As I was in the water, I was trying to hold my breath, flailing my arms and struggling to get out. Luckily, I managed to grab a hold of a rung on one of the corners of the tank and managed to pull myself out.

After I got out of the water, the other kid was nowhere to be found. But he came back 20 minutes or so later. You were able to get out, he asked, seeming surprised. I glared at him. I was fuming. Where did you go? Did you get lost? I remember asking him angrily.

I went to the bathroom, he said nonchalantly. That water is deep. I never thought that you would make it out. You mean you didn't try to find a grown up to let them know that I was drowning? I asked, still angry. He just shrugged. I've always been able to remember this event so vividly. I remember nearly every detail down to what I wore that day.

But something else came to light rather unexpectedly years later when I was talking about this with my dad. Yeah, I know that bothered you so much, but I'm sure you've always felt betrayed by your cousin for leaving you when you were drowning, my dad revealed. When he said that, I realized I had processed every bit of that incident, but I changed a crucial aspect of it in my head. There was no strange kid that day.

It was my own cousin, my partner in crime every summer break. For some reason, only known to him, he decided that he was going to let me drown or fend for myself. I work a graveyard shift as a security guard for a recycling yard. I won't disclose the name of the company for privacy reasons. My main duty is to make rounds across a giant recycling yard every hour. This giant yard is covered with various precious metals that are broken down and sold. During my shift, I scan various checkpoints to ensure that there isn't anybody besides me in the yard and facility.

One of my other tasks is to walk through some bushy, grassy terrain. I have to go over a set of train tracks to take a photo of a warehouse on the other side of the tracks to take a photo of a warehouse on the other side of the tracks. This is something I have to do to confirm that the area is safe and clear. I have to use a 2000 lumens flashlight so I can clearly see my way through pretty much the entire yard. This happened about two weeks after the job started. It was my second time working on the site in general.

I was making my rounds and I went through the grass and over the train tracks. I took the picture of the warehouse and submitted it to the property management. Then I suddenly got this intense feeling that I was being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I froze. My flashlight was still on and I had it pointed at the warehouse. I slowly turned around and pointed the flashlight behind me. About ten yards away, I saw a skinny old man with a large white beard. He was sitting on a chair and looking directly at me. He was wearing denim overalls and what appeared to be a western-style cowboy hat.

From what I could tell, he wasn't wearing a shirt under the overalls, since I could see his bare skin. I'm six foot, two hundred and twenty pounds, and I can usually keep my composure, but… I screamed fuck at a rather embarrassing pitch. After I screamed, I suddenly dropped my flashlight by accident, I guess out of shock. Mind you, there are tons of tiny metal shards literally everywhere on the ground. I couldn't see a damn thing since the flashlight fell in the opposite direction of my sight.

Then I heard some shuffling and some clanging of metal from footsteps at a quick pace now running towards me. Once the metal crunching footsteps were within maybe five feet of me, I heard them quickly veer to the left and go right past me. Within three to four seconds, the metal clanging was gone and I heard a far away sound of bushes rustling. I then grabbed my flashlight from the ground and pointed it toward the sound. The old man was gone.

He walked into the bushes and disappeared, to who knows where. I was shaking from adrenaline and fear, but I managed to catch my breath and call several emergency contacts. By the time anyone arrived to check it out, the old man was gone. I believe maybe he was just there to watch the trains as the tracks in the area were pretty active. I assumed this was the case, because the metal chair that he was sitting on was facing the tracks. That chair is still there. I took a photo of it,

more as a memento than anything else. In any case, I was terrified after this happened, and I had to finish the rest of my shift alone. Blues in San Diego, California, August 11th at the Moroccan Lounge in Los Angeles, California, August 18th here in Sacramento, California at Harlow's and on September 19th in Salt Lake City, Utah at the Metro Music Hall. Links to tickets will be in the show notes as well as at letsnotmeetpodcast.com. This is a great opportunity to hear your story in person. So if you're a local who's able to make it out to the show, make sure you let us know in your story submission so that we can add it to the setlist. Write to us at letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. I'll see you there. I had just finished my term of service in the army.

I was stationed in Texas. One late night, I decided at midnight that I would out process and travel back to Wisconsin. I was going to go the next day, but I was so anxious about getting going that I had trouble sleeping. Finally, at 11.45 pm, I got out of bed and went to sign out with the desk sergeant. Of course, knowing people wanted to sign out at midnight, he decided to do his rounds. You can't leave until you complete your final sign-off with the sergeant and turn in your room key, so I waited and waited, and finally at 2.45 a.m. he returned.

I turned my key in to him and got the sign-off. This process took about 45 minutes and at 3.30am I was on my way. At first I was so full of adrenaline that I felt that I could drive for days. Unfortunately that adrenaline didn't last long and by the time I was getting through Dallas I was nodding off at the wheel. I decided that once I was just past Denton I would pull over at the next rest stop and take a quick nap until the sun came up.

By the time I arrived at the rest stop, I could barely keep my eyes open. When I got to the stop, I pulled in to get out of my car and get some air. I wanted to throw some things away and take a look at my surroundings. There were only about three other cars and two semi-trucks there. Since this was more of a picnic stop as opposed to a rest stop, there were no restrooms. When I threw out my trash, I noticed a few flyers for some missing persons that had been posted, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. I then went back to my basic Geo Metro.

When I say basic, I mean basic. No radio, no power windows, no power locks. I rolled my window down slightly, turned on the boombox that I brought with me to play some music, and then I laid down to sleep. I was only asleep for about five or ten minutes when I felt my car shake, just slightly. I cracked an eye open and took a peek, but I didn't see anything so I blew it off and went back to sleep. I then heard what sounded like my door handle being pulled, as well as some scratching on the keyhole on the door.

I then snapped up quickly but I didn't see anyone there. I looked out all of the windows, and there was nobody. So again I shrugged it off, as me being tired, and I turned up the boombox and laid back down. Being a Texas night in July, it was hot, so it was tough to get comfortable, but I was so tired that I just laid back down. A few minutes later, I heard the door handle jiggle again, and my car noticeably shook. I sat up quickly and saw a man standing at the passenger side looking in.

Even though it was hot and humid, he was wearing a red sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, and I couldn't see his face. Being young and fresh out of the military, I boldly yelled, what the fuck do you want? He just stared at me, so I got out of my car. Mind you, I'm only 5'6", but I was so pissed off. After I stepped out of the car, the man walked towards the picnic tables like nothing happened. All the while, I'm yelling at him, telling him that if he came back, I would take him out.

After that, I decided not to stay and just drive on from there, so I got back in and went on my way. Even though I was upset about what just happened, about 10 miles down the road, I was super tired again. Luckily, about another 10 miles down I-35, there was another picnic stop. I'm not sure why North Texas doesn't have rest areas, but they don't. I pulled into the second picnic stop and reversed into a spot, just in case I needed to leave quickly.

There was only one other car there and no semi-trucks, so again, I locked the doors, cracked the windows, and turned on my boombox. I fell asleep right away, and about thirty minutes later, I heard a loud thud on my driver's side window. I sprang up and looked around, but nobody was there. I got out of the car, since I had my macho military attitude going, but nobody was there. I assumed that it was my nerves still reacting to what happened at the last stop, so I got back into my car, locked the doors, and closed my eyes. This time I was far too amped up to fall asleep.

So I just laid there with my eyes closed. As I was resting, I suddenly felt that someone was looking at me. So I opened my eyes and saw the same guy with the same red sweatshirt and hood pulled up again. He was standing outside of my driver's side door. I could see a bit more of his face this time though. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could tell that he was smiling at me. I popped up and tried to open the door quickly so that I could bump him, but

the doors were locked, and it didn't open. He started backing up, but he was still staring at me. By the time I opened the door and got out, he was about 30 feet away from me, but he was still facing me. It was fairly dark, but as I looked him over, I noticed that he looked pretty skinny, though he was about 6'2", maybe 6'3". But I still felt like I could take him with my military experience. Other than the red hooded sweatshirt, he was wearing blue jeans and green tennis shoes.

For some reason, I thought that the shoes looked odd. I could see something shine now and then, as he stood there staring at me. I couldn't tell exactly what, but I believe it was a machete. I quickly reached around to my backseat, grabbed my baseball bat, and I started yelling at him. He started walking towards me, and I took a few steps towards him. When I got about five feet from my car, he was about fifteen feet from me.

Just then, a yellow van pulled up fast and parked just off to the side of my car. I saw two guys also wearing hooded sweatshirts in the van, which made me finally realize what was happening. Before the other guys had a chance to get out, I ran back to my car. I had left the keys in the ignition, and since I had backed into the spot, I was able to cut out hard and peel my car right out of there. I was so lucky that I was able to get out of there so quickly, especially since I was driving a manual car. Luckily, I didn't stall the car as I made my getaway

because the other two guys were out of the van and the guy in the red sweatshirt was almost at my car. I gunned it for the interstate and I didn't stop until I was about 20 miles into Oklahoma. Once I was comfortable with stopping again, I pulled off the interstate to use the restroom and got some gas. In the restroom at the gas station that I stopped at, I noticed the same missing persons flyers that I had barely glanced at when I was at the first stop.

There were several missing persons and when I took a closer look and read the flyers, they were warning people not to stop for long periods of time at the picnic areas. There was also a description of a possible suspect linked to these cases. It said that the suspect was approximately six foot and wore blue jeans, green shoes, and a red hooded sweatshirt. As I read this, I felt the color in my face drain. Needless to say, it was daylight by this point, and I drove the rest of the way to Wisconsin wide awake. I'm not sure why I never reported my encounters to the number on the flyers,

and I'm not sure why I didn't tell anybody about it. But I now live in North Texas and I pass those two picnic stops every day on my way to work, so I think about it quite often. I wonder if these guys ever got anyone else, or if they were apprehended. I'm really hoping for the latter. I've tried looking it up, but I haven't been able to find any stories or any other details about it on the internet.

So to the creepy guys in sweatshirts, at the picnic stops in Texas, let's not meet again. Thanks for listening. If you've subscribed to our Patreon, make sure you stick around after the music for your extended ad free version of this week's episode. If you'd like to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today. You'll get the entire back catalog all ad free. Most of the episodes have been remastered. Plus you'll get hours entire back catalogue all ad free. Most of the episodes have been remastered. Plus, you'll get hours and hours of bonus content you won't hear anywhere else. The value is absolutely insane. That's at patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. This week you have heard chased on the back roads of southeast Oklahoma by Optimistic Dingo.

I unknowingly hung out with a murderer by Ashley Schaefer Wu. The time I regretted smiling at my neighbor by Sativa Diva in Lovita. Psycho Uber by Nanabub. Almost kidnapped by the ice cream man by Basic Reddit Girl. Stranger hiding in my hotel room by imsomervillej. The summer of 87 by earthenware. Now I'm terrified of graveyard shifts by a zaven. And finally, luckily my macho stupidity didn't get me killed by imshaw1005.

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. If you want to hear your story on the show, send it to letsnotmeetstoriesatgmail.com. Finally, make sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, and the old time radio cast at cryptic county podcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. See you all next week. Stay safe. This story took place six years ago when I was 19.