Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 13x03: Mr. Jim

Episode Date: July 15, 2024

Upcoming LNM Live Tour Dates (NEW DATES ADDED):  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  10/09/24 - Seattle, WA @ The Triple Door: GET YOUR TICKETS  10/30/24 - Portland, OR @ Show Bar: GET YOUR TICKETS  11/09/24 - Houston, TX @ The Secret Group: LINK PENDING (STAY TUNED)  11/10/24 - Dallas, TX @ Deep Ellum Art Co: GET YOUR TICKETS  Stories in this episode: My neighbor tried to drug me. | Fudge_pirate (0:39) Strange Man at Rest Stop at 3 am | Anonymous (10:34) Waking up to someone in our campsite | skc222 (14:08) Don't Worry...This Isn't A Human Spine! | janebaddall (18:44 ) Mountain Man | behindmywall (27:18) Stowaway In The Attic | Maple_Dog (33:31) He Murdered His Previous Tenant | Fox-Mulder (39:05) Mr. Jim | Kristaboo14 (42:46) Extended Patreon Content: The Hidden Camera | SapphireAshes Cornered in a Candy Store | Ash An Indirect Threat | SapphireAshes 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. I'm a female in my early 20s. I moved out on my own for the first time about two years ago. I hadn't had much to do with any of my neighbors and have always been slightly uneasy about the fact that no one around here looks out for each other. If anything seemed off, no one would notice or do any investigating to make sure that

I or anyone else was alright. Last year, I noticed a man constantly walking his dog in the grassy area behind my home. This wasn't unusual to see, as it's a common area for residents here. The dog was very cute, and my cat liked to watch the dog and somewhat play with it through the glass door that looked out onto the back. They would just chase each other back and forth and put their paws up on the glass. It was really cute stuff. Well, one day, I was outside and this man's dog came running up to my porch with glee

to see the pets and say hello to his kitty friend. This was the first time I actually spoke to this neighbor. We'll call him Mark. Mark seemed decent enough and we got along just fine. We started hanging out pretty often in a short period since I'm a smoker and he brought his dog out all the time. Since it was summer, we were both outside often, so we ran into each other a lot. On most days, we would spend about an hour or more outside talking.

After a couple of weeks of this, I gave him my phone number and I was happy to finally have a friend in my complex. I will say that he was very clearly interested in either having a romantic relationship with me or at least being buddies with benefits. I was very honest with him and let him know that I was not interested in either at all and had to tell him this quite often. Frankly, I was getting a bit irritated that this topic came up so many times. It happened every time we spoke.

From the very first time we talked until the last, he tried to get me to go into his house. He offered to have me over multiple times every time that I saw him. I always said no and blamed it on my being COVID cautious. He quickly got tired of that excuse and invited himself into my home. but I always said no. One day he came out while I was smoking with a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. He said that I had to try this stuff because it was so delicious. I instantly noticed that the seal was broken as it was a screw cap bottle and it didn't seem like any of it was drunk since the bottle was filled to the brim.

I found it a bit odd because the wine isn't filled to the tippy top like that. Without waiting for a response, he poured a couple of glasses and didn't drop a beat as he urged me to take a drink. I felt very uncomfortable, but I didn't want him to feel like he was being accused of anything when he was just trying to be a nice, friendly neighbor. After all, he poured himself a glass of the very same stuff, right? Well, my mom raised me better than that, so I faked a sip and said that it was good. After any sentence either of us said, he would then tell me to take another drink.

I told him I wasn't really a drinker, so I was pacing myself and told him that I noticed he hadn't drank any, so I told him to please go ahead. He didn't reach for his glass right away, but in the middle of speaking, when he did reach for it, he knocked it over, spilling the wine into the grass. He brushed it off quickly and told me that it was my turn to drink now. I told him, "'But you still haven't drank anything. You just spilled your drink.

Pour yourself another glass. I don't want to drink alone.'" He did this, but still didn't drink anything. A few moments later, he told me to keep drinking mine. I told him that he needed to catch up first and we basically kept going in circles. He reached for his glass again and guess what? He spilled it again. The grass was now saturated in wine. He then told me to take another drink. At this point, I was done. Too many red flags were warning me to get the hell out of this situation.

I was honest and told him that this seemed sketchy, and I didn't trust the drink since he was refusing to drink his drink, but seemed way too eager for me to drink mine. He told me he was just clumsy and taking it slow since he didn't drink a lot, adding that he had seen me taking shots and drinking beers and wine when I had friends over. He said he knew I would handle it better than him. This told me that he's been watching me. That was another red flag. I do think that it's important to mention that our apartment complex is huge.

Mark used to work for the complex and he knew the maintenance crew. He didn't live particularly close to me. His apartment was about half a block away from mine so he can't see my windows or yard from where he lives. He frequently used the common yard behind my apartment for his dog, even though there were common yards closer to him that he could have used. I finally flat out told him I wasn't going to drink anything because of how dodgy all of this seemed.

He once again poured himself a glass only to spill it just like the others. There wasn't much left in the bottle at this point. I poured the remaining wine into his glass and told him to drink with me on three. So we raised our glasses and, to my amazement, he actually took a drink while I spilled mine into the grass. He quickly went home after that, and I didn't see him for days. About two nights later, he came out while I was outside smoking. He instantly started griping about how I wouldn't date him or have sex with him. He told me that he didn't know why all the girls were like this.

He was loudly shouting at me and asking what the problem with him was. I told him that I had been honest with him since I had met him, that I was never interested in dating or anything like that, and that it wasn't him specifically. Still shouting, he switched gears and started complaining about his ex and her dog. He then proceeded to go into detail about how he wouldn't feed it or give it water because it kept having accidents in the house. I was horrified at this point, especially considering the whole time he was telling me about this, he was playing fetch with his little dog. His dog always seemed so scared of him, and I've even pointed that out to him in the past, but he told me that that was because his dog's previous owner was abusive.

His dog was always very excited to see me. This little guy would always cuddle up to me and stay by me, so I always thought I was extra special. After this tangent, it was very clear that the poor guy was living in an abusive household. I was so done with this neighbor after this. I cut him off and said that I needed to go because my friends were waiting for me. After I went inside, he sent me several messages while he remained outside. He blew up my phone with, hey, hi, lol.

This was followed by a bunch of gibberish. It just kept going on. He eventually texted me, telling me that he knew I was home and not with friends because he saw my car in the lot, and he's seen me walking around. I ignored all of his texts for the next few days, and he started throwing his dog's toys on my porch. He was trying to get my attention to come out by attempting to bait me with his cute dog.

I wasn't interested in coming out, so he would just stand outside on my back porch for hours. He kept this up on cold, rainy, and snowy days, which made things even creepier. I think that in his mind, since I was a smoker, he figured I would come out eventually. He wasn't wrong about that, but I would just quietly go out front where he couldn't see me. He still actively bothers me, even though we only spoke and hung out for a few weeks in the summer of 2020. Even in his recent messages, he continues to ask me what he's done wrong.

I haven't spoken to him since he screamed at me for not sleeping with him, sandwiched with his admission of horrible animal abuse. I guess the moral of the story is to trust your gut and stay smart. Don't drink things that people you don't know too well are trying to offer you, especially if the seal is broken. I am certain that he was trying to drug me.

I do have a stun gun, pepper spray, and a handgun. I'm extremely reluctant to use a gun on a person, but I have completed formal training on how to use the weapon. I bring pepper spray with me every time I go outside, even if it's just to take the garbage out. Or pop in my I found a job. As soon as I could afford to, I set up a profile on a website called Spare Room to find roommates.

I was contacted by James, who had a room to rent on the outskirts of the town that I worked in. The living situation sounded good, but he wanted to talk on the phone before inviting me to view it in person. We had a chat one evening, and it turned out that we had some things in common. We both enjoyed fitness, particularly swimming, and were movie buffs. By the end of the call, it had felt like I had been chatting with an old friend so I was looking forward to meeting him.

James didn't specify his age, but I assumed that he was in his twenties like me. I went to view the property and I saw a man coming out of the house next door and realized he was heading over to greet me. He introduced himself as James, and I was pretty shocked. He was at least 50, dressed quite conservatively, and looked like he was wearing a hairpiece. If he had told me on the phone that he was in his early 20s, I wouldn't have questioned it. Something about it was just a little surprising.

I went ahead with the viewing, but I had already decided that I didn't want to rent a room from him. I wanted to live with people who were closer to my age group. I was also put off by the house decor. It looked like it hadn't changed since the 80s. When I viewed the bedroom that was available for rent, it looked like it hadn't changed since the 80s. When I viewed the bedroom that was available for rent, it looked like it was occupied by a young person. There were several pairs of trainers and a video game console.

James said that the previous tenant, Mark, was moving to London for work. Coincidentally, my name is Mark, too. James invited me to sit in the living room after the house tour. I didn't want to be rude, so I did. He explained that he cared for his elderly mother, who lived next door. Then he started complimenting my style, saying that I looked cool. He proceeded to put his hand on my leg. This obviously made me very uncomfortable.

When he asked if I was interested in the room, I said I had some other properties to view but I would be in touch. I then made an excuse to leave. Everything about him screamed red flag. I just wanted to get out of that house. As soon as I was back in my car, I called my mom to tell her how freaked out I was, and I absolutely would not be living there.

James texted me a few days later to ask if I had thought any more about moving in. I lied and said that I found somewhere else closer to town. I did eventually find somewhere to live, with some other young professionals, which turned out to be great. Some months later, our town was shocked by the news that a man's body had been found on the outskirts of town in the fields. The man was later identified and his first name was Mark. I didn't think much of it until I saw a photo of the murder suspect, which was his landlord, James.

The same James whose house I viewed. I saw him in the news and instantly got chills. He was later convicted of Mark's murder. This is a story about how I became a let's not meet for two mothers and some small children. I live in Nevada, close to some beautiful and occasionally sketchy trails. The area is mostly looked after by the Bureau of Land Management, which essentially means it's all public land, so people can pretty much do whatever they want up there. While traversing these trails, you might come across abandoned cars or electronics. These are typically used as target practice, as they're generally riddled with dozens of shotgun holes.

You'll probably see the occasional bobcat or mountain lion den as well. Being an evolutionary biology PhD student, I'm obviously far more interested in the latter. In this area, there is one spot in the canyon where some predators like to frequent. I always find cool bones there, and this one Friday afternoon was no exception. I just had a seriously rough week. I barely slept or showered, so I decided to go for a hike and take some of the stress off. And I was hoping to get some cat prints or bones to add to my morbid, naturalist collection.

Sure enough, I came across a large, extremely well-preserved spine with an attached pelvis. It appeared to be from some kind of medium-sized animal, probably a coyote or a small deer. Naturally, I picked it up with the intention of carrying it back to my house and asking my mammologist roommate to identify it. Perfectly normal stuff, you see. What I failed to take into account is that the trail to get back to my house cuts through a park, a children's park complete with a fancy playground, the kind that I would have drooled over as a kid.

So there I was, walking through this park with a mystery spine proudly slung over my shoulder. I made eye contact with two mothers sitting on a bench as their kids played on the structure. They looked thoroughly disturbed as I was struck by the realization of how terrifying I must have looked, as a twenty-something year old emerging from the canyon making my way towards a group of toddlers whilst wielding a large vertebral column of unknown origins. If humans had hackles, these mother's hackles would have been raised. One of them got up to walk closer to her children, so I felt the need to say something reassuring.

I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head. Don't worry, this isn't a human spine. Immediately after these words left my mouth, I realized that's probably exactly what somebody carrying a human spine would say. Accordingly, the mothers did not look reassured. Not in the slightest. Some of the children were starting to notice me as well. So I panicked and tried to mentally work out how to backpedal. Do I tell them about how I know it isn't human because human pelvises look different?

Then they'll wonder why I'm so familiar with human pelvises. I mean, I taught anatomy and physiology, so it would have been easy for me to explain. I was also an evolutionary biologist, which was another reason why I knew about the pelvic modifications that enabled humans to be bipedal. But I figured they probably wouldn't understand or listen to any of this, since I'm sure all they wanted to do was get this creepy spine lady away from their children. In the end, I decided to keep walking without providing further clarification. The mother's eyes did not leave me once I made my way through the park.

I even chanced a backward glance when I looked at the opposite end of the park. They were all still staring at me while one of them appeared to be talking on her phone. So to the poor mothers and children who thought that they may have encountered a murderer hauling a spine as a trophy as she descended from the rugged hills of Nevada, I'm truly sorry for becoming your let's not meet. But honest to God, it wasn't a human spine. Cross my heart. This happened years ago when I was 19.

I'm currently in my mid-twenties, but I still remember this very clearly because of how creeped out I was. Back then, I was living over 600 miles away from my parents in a different state. Even though there was quite a bit of distance between us, my mom and I still talked on the phone at least twice a week as we were really close. When we found out that her cancer came back, I didn't think twice about dropping everything to drive down and see her. A plane ticket would be too expensive, and while I had a 10-year-old Toyota that might

have been a bit beat up, it still got me from point A to point B cheaply and without incident. My parents were not thrilled about the idea of me driving 11 hours by myself, but my mind was made up, so they offered me a deal. I would stop at a rest stop every 2-3 hours to stretch my legs and call them, and in exchange for this courtesy, they would pay for my gas. If I didn't call within the three-hour window, they would assume I had been in an accident

and call me repeatedly, interrupting whatever audiobook or podcast I had on. During this drive, I stopped at a rest stop at 2.45 a.m. This was one of the nicer stops. It was well lit, and there were multiple vending machines that didn't even have huge cages around them. Also, the on-site payphone was operational, and the whole rest area looked clean. There were a couple of cars there with people sleeping in them.

I had 15 minutes before I had to call my parents to check in, so I got out of my car and stretched. As I was stretching, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I unexpectedly heard a man's voice right behind me. Miss, can I ask you a favor? He asked. I turned around, and this man was now leaning against my car. I had no idea how he got there so fast.

I hadn't seen him when I parked, but there he was, uncomfortably close to me. He looked like he was in his 40s, and while he was too close, his body language didn't scream threatening. I was 19 years old, barely over 5 feet, and at that point in my life, 110 pounds soaking wet. Even though I had binged a lot of true crime media and knew the dangers of a girl my age alone at night with an out of state license plate, I asked him what he needed. He told me that he accidentally locked his keys and his phone in his truck and he asked

if he could borrow my phone real quick to call his friend. He assured me that it would only take a second and it would really help him out. I was reaching into my pocket and nearly handed it to him with a Pollyanna no problem, but then I looked at his face. Like I said, this rest stop was surprisingly well-lit, and the guy looked relatively normal, except for his eyes. He had these dead eyes, and you know what I'm talking about.

It's like he was smiling, but his eyes were vacant, creepy, and staring far too hard. I knew immediately not to hand this guy my only way to call for help, and I was overcome with that you-need-to-run-away feeling. I smiled and put on my best customer service voice and explained, I'm sorry, but I don't have a charger, and I need to save my battery for the tracking app that my parents have on my phone, and I need to save any additional juice to call my parents, which is what I have to do right now.

Good luck though. And then I turned and walked about 20 feet away, but he didn't leave. He just stayed where he was leaning against my car, watching me. I didn't know what to do next. I didn't want to leave him alone with my car, so going to the bathroom was out of the question.

But I also wanted to get away from him to solidify that I wasn't going to help. I technically could have gotten into my car, but I would have gotten really close to him, unless I got in the passenger side and crawled over. As all of this was running through my head, he was just standing there, not moving. So I did the first thing that popped into my head. I called my dad.

And my dad, for the first time that night, didn't pick up the phone. When I heard his voicemail greeting, I glanced back at the guy. He still hadn't moved, and he was still staring at me. So then I faked a phone call conversation with my dad, and I angled my body so that the guy couldn't see that I had hung up the phone. Then I loudly said that I should be home in about 30 minutes, when in reality it was about

four hours. I mentioned exactly where I was and reassured my dad that I was at a good rest stop with plenty of lighting and a couple of visible security cameras. The guy still hadn't moved, and I was running out of steam on this fake conversation. In years since, I've thought of all of the things I could have said while pretending to talk to my dad, but in that moment I was beginning to freak out, so my mind went blank. Then I hung up and didn't know what to do. I had hoped that the fake phone call would scare the guy off, but he was still there

leaning against my car with his dead eyes. I then bought cookies from the vending machine and walked around a little bit to stall. At this point, he had been leaning against my car for at least ten minutes. I honestly debated waking someone up from one of the cars to ask for help. But just the thought of having to wake someone up to help me to get into my own goddamn car annoyed me enough that I stopped stalling and I headed back. I decided that, unless he touched me, I was just going to pretend that he wasn't there. He waited until I was unlocking my car before he started talking to me again.

He told me again that he really needed to use my phone. His voice sounded artificially friendly, and since he had been creepily watching me for way too long, I wasn't falling for it. He leaned forward as I was getting into my car, so I shut and locked the door as fast as possible. He had only moved slightly from leaning forward, and didn't fully move out of the way until I started my car and put it in reverse. I didn't even put my seatbelt on, I was focusing on just getting away from him. When I was halfway out of the rest stop, my mom called me. I could still see him in my mirror, he was standing right next to where I was parked with his back to me.

He was far enough away that I felt okay parking again to answer my mom's call, but I kept my engine running, and I kept watching him. I didn't want my mom to worry, so I told her everything was fine, and I let her know where I was and what my ETA was. As I was in my locked car away from him, I was beginning to feel like I had overreacted. My mom was scolding me about speeding since I was making good time for this trip, but I tuned her out and I noticed the guy started moving. As my mom lectured me about road safety, I watched the guy walk up to a truck, unlock

the door, and get in. The keys being locked inside no longer seemed to be an issue for him. I watched as he started his truck, headed out to the freeway, and drove out of sight. I had to pretend to be fine just in order to not upset my mom. I didn't get back onto the road for another 20 minutes, and when I did, I didn't speed. I didn't want to see that truck. I found out years later that the closest city to that rest stop has a major problem with trafficking, and girls that don't

look like they live nearby or who appear to be transient tend to be targets. I'm not sure if that was what was happening to me, or if he was just trying to scare me into handing over my phone for whatever reason, but either way, creepy guy at the rest stop, let's not meet. My partner and I are in our early 20s. During the summer of 2019, we decided to take a road trip to Vancouver, Canada, and then stay at Golden Ears Provincial Park. We were on spring break and wanted to do something to make the most of our vacation. Since we like camping, we thought that it was a great place to go. Plus, my partner had never been out of the US, so it was going

to be a cool new experience for him. We planned a six-day trip with Airbnbs booked in each state and the grand finale was a stay at a reserved campsite in Golden Ears. We got a spot that was close to the water along Alouette Lake. We had a giant tent and brought a bunch of fruit and veggies to eat healthily during the trip. We stored our food in a cooler that was too small and brought a cutting board and knife to prepare snacks while we were driving.

We started in California and took turns driving our bright red Ford Fiesta. We drove through Oregon and Washington and made it to Vancouver. We spent a day or two in each state, drank a little too much, and stayed out late. Canada was the best part. Walking around Alouette Lake felt like walking in a painting. We walked barefoot on the rocks with our toes in the freezing cold lake. We hiked around and saw beautiful waterfalls. Everything was perfect and the campsite was empty, with the exception of one other couple.

We went to bed early on the night that we arrived at Golden Ears. It was quiet and I woke up to the sound of crackling outside of our tent. My partner was still asleep and snoring. I didn't think too much of this because it was pitch black and figured it was probably an animal. But the crackling continued to get closer to the tent, so I sat up and grabbed my phone. The brightness of the screen illuminated and I quickly turned it off.

In those two seconds, I could make out that there was a person right outside our tent. I froze, and so did they. They stopped moving, but they were close enough to unzip the tent. I started poking my partner since I had no idea what to do. When they woke up, I said there was someone outside the tent. Then I heard intentionally quiet footsteps slowly walking out of our campsite.

My partner was groggy and hadn't caught up to what was going on, so she loudly kept asking me, what? I then noticed that a vehicle was parked right outside our camping area. It presumably belonged to whoever was just outside of our tent, since it suddenly started up and drove away. Whoever this was didn't turn their lights on until they turned the corner. And we were out of view, so I really couldn't make out much, but from what I could tell, their vehicle looked like a truck. I was shaking, but my partner was still in a sleepy haze, and couldn't put together

what was happening. I wanted to leave, but the Golden Ears main gate was locked until about 6 or 7 a.m., and it was only 1 a.m., so we had to stay put. I then made us move into the Ford Fiesta to sleep in a tightly packed car. She fell back to sleep immediately and thought that I was paranoid which made me think, could it have been a park ranger? The behavior of this person seemed to be so strange, far too strange to be a park ranger.

So I sat there wide awake for about two hours as I kept thinking about it. The car was locked, and I had wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. I was in the passenger seat while my partner was in the driver's seat fast asleep. It was 3 a.m. I was half awake and somewhat starting to drift off, but then I heard a car slowly driving up the road. I looked, and its lights were off as it rounded the corner. I knew that it had to be the same truck. I was scared, but my adrenaline was pumping. It slowly rounded the corner and pulled up directly in front of our campsite in the same

spot that it had before. I felt like I was going to throw up. I didn't have any weapons except for a kitchen knife that we brought to cut up the fruit and veggies. So I grabbed the knife and I tried to make myself look angry, menacing, and big. I sat up as straight as I could in the passenger seat, clutching the kitchen knife. I held it up at eye level and I glared out at this truck in the pitch black, trying to

look as stern and stoic as the man in the American Gothic painting. Then the driver turned the engine off and the light shone directly into my face from inside the truck. I stared into the light terrified, but I remained unblinking, holding my large kitchen knife. After a short standoff, the truck started up again and turned on its lights, blinding me even more. Then, they pulled out, turned around, and went back the same way they came.

My heart was pounding. I woke up my partner and said that we needed to get the hell out of there. We still had some things outside of the campsite. We packed up quickly by throwing things into the car and sat there, awake until 6am. Once the main gates were unlocked, we drove straight home and didn't stop. Along the way, we kept rehashing what happened, trying to make sense of the situation. We never came to a conclusion that made sense, and ultimately decided that we both needed to get home, and get some sleep. A couple of years ago I went hiking alone on different trails in the Blue Ridge Parkway. For context, I was 20-something years old when this happened.

I always wanted to visit Mount Mitchell, so I made the trek up there. This was on a Monday, so there weren't a ton of visitors. The path to the summit was paved, and while it's steep, it's fairly easy to walk. I was a smoker at the time, so I was quite out of breath from the incline. When I finally got to the top, I stood to the side to catch my breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone step very close to me. I looked up, and it was a man who appeared to be in his late 40s.

He had greasy dark brown hair. He said, hey, I noticed you took a while to get up here, and you're breathing really hard, are you okay? Now, I was kind of taken aback, but I replied by saying that I was fine and explained that I was a smoker. I kind of laughed it off, hoping to dismiss him and make light of the situation. He continued to stand there looking at me, so I gave him a little nod to indicate that I was going to walk away.

I walked over to the nearby podiums that displayed information about the direction that you were looking out over. It mentioned things like which mountains and cities were in that direction way out in the distance. The man followed me over to the podiums. He started talking as if he were continuing some kind of conversation I didn't know we were having. He talked about how he had recently been divorced and was part of a men's group that traveled

around the country to a lot of famous tourist spots. He asked me where I was from and I told him. He then proceeded to tell me about these really intimate details of why he got divorced. He told me about how he suspected his wife of cheating on him, so he hid in the closet in their bedroom one night and caught her in bed with a co-worker. He grumbled, "...they both paid dearly for that night." I tried to make it visibly obvious that I was uncomfortable, but he kept asking me questions.

But he wouldn't pause to let me answer, he just kept talking over me. I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, and assumed that he was simply lonely and wanted somebody to talk to. Then I realized there wasn't anybody with him. There weren't any traces of any men's group, as he talked about. I was trying to stay calm and justified that maybe they had split up and went their separate ways to explore for a while. At any rate, I was becoming increasingly nervous, so

I let him know that I was going to head back down to go to the gift shop. Again, he started following me. There were a lot of trails that branched off from this main path to the summit, but I wasn't interested in going on any of them, because I was still so out of breath. Plus, I didn't want to walk down one of the smaller trails, since they were desolate, and he was still following me. He was trailing ever so slightly behind me when he loudly called out, hey. I turned around and he was grinning ear to ear. His hair somehow looked even greasier than when he first approached me.

He asked, why don't we go walking down one of these trails? I'm sure we'll have a really good time. I sternly replied, no, thank you. Then I looked to my left and there were two elderly women sitting on a bench. I realized that they had been watching us. One of the women called to the man. I think it's time for you to let the young lady get going now.

I was very appreciative. women called to the man. I think it's time for you to let the young lady get going now. I was very appreciative. I gave her a soft smile and a nod. And with that, I turned around and walked at a brisk pace back down the path. I passed the gift shop and went straight to my car. Thankfully, the man hadn't followed me. That was my last solo hike, and I'm glad that nothing worse happened then or any other time that I was alone.

I definitely don't go on outings like that by myself anymore. We've added some new live dates to the Let's Not Meet Tour this year. I'll be in Seattle, Washington on October 9th at the Triple Door, Portland, Oregon on October 30th at Show Bar, and then I'm headed to Texas on November 9th in Houston at The Secret Group, and then I'm hopping over to Dallas on November 10th to perform at Deep Ellum Art Company. Tickets for those shows will be available at 10am Pacific Time on Monday, July 15th. Links to those tickets will be in the show notes. And if you haven't picked up your tickets for the previous leg of the tour, we still

have some available for San Diego on August 10th, Los Angeles on August 11th, Sacramento on August 18th, and Salt Lake City on September 19th. I can't wait to see you there. Now back to the show. This is my mom's story from her part-time job in the early 90s. It happened a long time ago. Sometime in 1990 or 91, my mom started working at a group home as a youth worker doing counseling and support.

For context, the group home was in a residential area not too far from the local hospital police station in downtown CORE. This home had three floors. The main floor was where the office spaces and kitchen area were. There were living quarters where about eight girls lived, and the third floor had a room that wasn't accessible from inside the house as it was locked, but there was access to the attic above that room. Nobody was allowed to go onto the third floor, so the girls and staff who worked there were

always just on the first two. At the time, the agency didn't have strict regulations, so my mom would be working night shifts by herself and having to manage all of these kids alone. One night, my mom began her shift and was made aware of some very creepy information. Both the home supervisor and the kids who lived in the home had started reporting weird smells at night, sounds from the attic, and food going missing from both day and night shifts. There were reports also from other staff members about them feeling as though they were being watched. Due to these reports, my mom had to do half-hour checks to ensure that all doors were locked.

However, during her shifts, she didn't notice any problems. Thankfully for her, none of the strange events took place during her specific shifts. As events kept getting reported, my mom's supervisor then called in maintenance workers. When the maintenance workers went around to check the property, they noticed that one of the windows on the third floor had been broken. It was the window to the room that was locked. Nobody went up there, and the room wasn't accessible from the inside of the house, so nobody knew that that window up there was broken. That room also had access to the attic,

so the maintenance workers went up to check on the attic and found various things. Food wrappers, clothing, and even personal items that were taken from the residents' bedrooms. Even though the people who worked and lived there couldn't get into that room, that door could still be opened from the inside. This meant that at some point throughout the night or day shifts, the stowaway who had been taking this stuff was walking around inside the home and nobody even knew. They would have had to come down when the residents were either being taken to school or appointments, if it was during the day,

or they would have to come down when the residents were asleep, at night. While they were roaming the house, it was possible for the stowaway to view the schedule board in the office. This would have given them information about when the staff and residents were coming and going. Eventually, the maintenance workers fixed the window and placed a lock on the fridge. Security cameras were also installed.

There weren't any other issues after that. My mom does have other creepy stories after working 20 plus years in that field though. ["The Last Supper"] When I was 14, I was asked to babysit my three younger cousins, aged 8, 4, and 1. My aunt and uncle had a wedding to go to that was over an hour away, and they wouldn't be back until very late. Their house was situated on a steep mountainside in an extremely rural and mountainous part of Pennsylvania.

Their back deck had a 15-foot drop onto a rocky hill below, leading to a river, and their closest neighbors were about half a mile away. The closest main road was a mile away, and at night there were no lights to be seen anywhere around them. Basically, it was a pretty remote location in the middle of nowhere, and you would have to know where you're going to get there. You don't just accidentally end up there. My aunt and uncle left us with some pizza and their cell phone number was written on

a sticky note next to their landline. This was the early 2000s, so I didn't have a cell phone. Even if I did, I wouldn't have reception in that area anyway. The baby, my one-year-old cousin, was already asleep before my aunt and uncle left. My four-year-old cousin wasn't feeling well, so he was quietly watching TV in the living room as he dozed off. My eight-year-old cousin was playing Guitar Hero with me up in the loft. The loft overlooked the living room to the left, enabling me to keep an eye on the four-year-old, and there was a huge window that overlooked the driveway to the right.

This layout of the driveway is an important detail to the story. The road that led to their house ran straight into their forked driveway. It was a dead-end road, with the house being as far as you could go. On the left side of the driveway there is a large open carport where my aunt, uncle, and anyone who ever visited could park. The right side of the driveway led down a very short but very steep hill to a large leveled-out area. This area ended against the garage door, which opened into the basement of the house. It was never used as a garage, but it served as my uncle's man cave, which was where he

spent a lot of his time. Right beside the garage door, there was a normal door with a window so that you could see right in. This side of the driveway was exclusively used by the kids to play, because it was the only flat yard-like area on the property. Cars never drove down there. Ever. There were too many toys and bikes on the way down there.

Friends and family were all well aware of this, too. It was about 10 p.m. in pitch black outside. There wasn't a moon to illuminate the area, either. My cousin and I were still playing Guitar Hero when I caught headlights in the corner of my eye. I noticed the headlights weren't my aunt's minivan. They were huge truck headlights with those roof lights that are often seen on Jeeps or other off-road vehicles.

Not only that, the truck was going down the right side of the driveway into the kids play area. I knew right away that there was no way that this was my aunt or uncle. There was no way that this was anyone that they knew. Panic and dread filled my body. I was a small teenage girl, alone in an isolated house on a mountain with three children in my care. At night.

Terrified, I asked my cousin, who is that? Jake, do you know whose truck that is? Panic washed over his face as he replied, no, I've never seen that truck before. I quickly ushered him downstairs, still unsure of what to do. The other two little ones were sleeping, and I wanted to make sure that they were safe, so I checked on the baby as I grabbed the phone to call 911. That was when I started to hear the metal garage door being shaken violently.

Nobody ever opened that garage door, so even more panic set in. Then, I heard whoever it was trying to open the door beside it. I distinctly heard the metal doorknob jiggling. No one had knocked, so it wasn't like they were checking to see if my uncle was down there, plus the lights were out. It was dark. They knew that no one was down there. So I figured they were definitely trying to break in.

The door leading to the basement steps was right next to the phone, so I could clearly hear all of this going on. I quickly turned the little lock on the doorknob just in case they were able to make it into the basement. My heart was practically jumping out of my chest. I was talking to the 911 dispatcher as my 8-year-old cousin was clung to my arm. The operator was calm and trying to calm me down, but I knew it would be at least 30 minutes until a police officer could even get up there, assuming they didn't get totally lost on

the mountainside in the pitch dark. I just kept thinking, we are fucked. We are dead. This is how I die. The operator asked for the number that my aunt and uncle left me so that I could have another dispatcher call them to let them know about the situation. I turned around to grab the sticky note with the number written on it. Into my horror, I saw a man peering through the large sliding glass door.

He was a huge burly man, who was at least six foot four. He had long, scraggly red hair and a big bushy beard. What made it worse was that he was grinning at me. Thinking of that grin still scares me to this day. Meanwhile, I had to have looked like a terrified deer in the headlights. I was shaking so hard I could barely hold the phone. There was a second man behind him who I couldn't see as well, so I have no idea what he looked like. I could tell that he was equally as tall, but a bit lankier than the larger man that

I was looking at through the glass door. I screamed, Oh my God, they're here. Before the 911 operator could say anything, my eight-year-old cousin said, Mr. Jim? I was very confused as he realized he knew who the man was. But it wasn't like he was happy or relieved to see him. I asked, you know who that is? Before my cousin could answer,

I turned my attention to the man at the door and shouted. I'm on the phone with the police. The man stared at me for a moment and furrowed his brows like he was deciding what he wanted to do next. Then he just backed away into the darkness. In what seemed like an eternity later, I saw truck lights reversing out of the driveway and then back down the road until they disappeared. I was terrified, and so was my cousin. He had only met this Mr. Jim guy a few times.

He was an acquaintance of his dad. He wasn't a close family friend, which was obvious because, again, he went down the wrong driveway. Visitors never go down that way. The 911 operator asked for a description of the men, then told me that they had gotten in touch with my aunt and uncle who were on their way home.

The dispatcher stayed on the phone with me until a police officer showed up a bit later to make sure that the men were gone. The officer who came to the house stayed with us until my aunt and uncle got home so that they could ask them some questions. My uncle was furious, not at me for having to return home early, but he was mad at this Mr. Jim guy. I remember that he muttered something like, I'm going to fuck him up. My aunt was mad at my uncle and told him to tell Jim never to come back again.

I didn't know it at the time, but my uncle had a drug problem. I don't know what Mr. Jim or his accomplice were doing, or what they would have done if I wasn't on the phone with the police. But that grin was not a friendly one. It was sinister. Mr. Jim had to have known that my uncle wasn't home since the basement was so dark. He would have been able to see my uncle through the window of the basement door if he were there. It was also strange that he tried lifting the garage door

as that was something that my uncle never did. He intended to break into that basement. That much was clear to me. I couldn't think of any other explanation. I never babysat for them again after that, and I don't think I ever went back up there in general since soon after my aunt divorced my uncle and moved out. So to Mr. Jim, the grinning, burly man who tried to break into my aunt and uncle's house while I was babysitting, let's not meet again. Thanks for listening and stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended 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 access to ad free versions of all of our episodes at a higher bit rate, as well as hours and hours of bonus content with stories you won't hear anywhere else. Again, that's patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. This week you have heard my neighbor tried to drug me by fudge pirate. strange man at the rest stop at 3am by anonymous. waking up to somebody in our campsite. By SKC222. Don't worry, this isn't a human spine. By Jane Baddall.

Mountain Man. By Behind My Wall. Stowaway in the Attic by MapleDog. He murdered his previous tenant by Fox Mulder. And finally Mr. Jim. By Christaboo14. 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.

Make sure you send your stories in to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com to hear them on the show and don't forget we added Seattle, Portland, Houston, and Dallas to the tour. Don't forget to get your tickets at let's not meet podcast dot com slash tour, or just follow the link in the show notes. Finally, don't forget 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. Everybody be safe. My partner Dia and I used to live with this awful roommate.