Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 1x12: Ghost - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: April 8, 2019

Stories in this episode: My brother saw a ghost as a kid. Two decades later, I realized what he actually saw. - florianizer Caterer goes ballistic - FranticSledder My Mom Almost Became a Prostitute By Accident - mnicoleb Sponsored by Shudder: To try Shudder free for 30 days, go to shudder.com and use promo code meet. Follow Let's Not Meet: Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast  Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/crypticcounty   

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Woo! My name is Andrew Tate and this is season one, episode 12 of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. I was about 7 years old, my brother was about 10. It was well-pastured bedtime when our mom woke up off of the couch and told us to get to bed. Our dad worked construction out of town back then, so it was often just the three of us at the house for weeks at a time. Up the stairs into the immediate right was our parents bedroom.

Going left put you in the middle of the hallway. Taking another left down that hallway led to my brother's room. The opposite end was my room, which was also across the hall from the upstairs bathroom. At either end of the hallway are window doors which we always kept locked and rarely used. The door on my end led to a balcony overlooking our front yard, and the door on my brother's end opened to our back porch, the house kind of leans into a small hill. My brother and mom both had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. I only knew this because I was a light sleeper, and they just couldn't

help flushing with the door wide open. This night, however, my brother stopped on his way to his room and came back towards the bathroom. I'm going to try and pee before I go to bed. The past few nights, I've been too afraid to walk to the bathroom. I keep seeing a man wearing stripes at the end of the hallway," he said. I don't know if my mom wrote it off as my brother telling ghost stories or trying to scare me, or if she was already half asleep and didn't catch it, but she didn't react at all to my brother's confession.

I, on the other hand, was terrified by it. The fear of seeing a ghost like that at the end of the hallway or through the windows is the reason I started running from the stairs to my bedroom at night. Years later, when I was about 18, my mom and I were having a conversation in her car about a dog we had for a very short time when I was little. We were sharing stories about maxes, tendencies towards destroying my shoes and other unruly behaviors when my mom blurted out. Do you remember that time I opened the front door for the cops and Max ran inside to the kitchen and started tearing open that big bag of dog food we had? This really caught me by surprise, because in all the years that I had lived

in that house we never once called the cops. We were a gun-owning family in a quiet rural West Virginia neighborhood. I asked her what she was talking about, and she looked equally surprised as if she had just revealed something by accident. Oh, that's right. I never told you because you were too young at the time. One night, I woke up hearing noises outside my window. I went and looked, and I saw a man staring into my bedroom. She went on to describe how, turning on the lights caused him to take off running, and how she grabbed my dad's pistol before calling the cops. I can't remember all of the details, but I gave them to the cops when they showed up. A tall white male wearing a striped shirt and jeans, short dark hair, something like that. They said it matched the description of a man that they were looking for in the area.

Now I know it sounds so obvious hearing those two stories back to back, but it wasn't until a few years ago, and my mid-twenties that I pieced together that my brother had unknowingly warned us about a man who spent multiple nights casing our home. My brother already knew about my mom's story. He still can't remember much about how he saw the person, but it sounds like it really scared him as much as the story did for me when we were kids. He said he's probably suppressing the memory, and I can't tell if he's joking about that or not.

My brother did remind me of a piece of the story I didn't know was related. For the week after my mom called the cops, our older cousin brought a shotgun and stayed with us until my dad returned. Of course at the time I didn't know why he was staying with us. I mentioned this to my mom and she told me a detail that I didn't know. Our cousin who was sleeping in my brother's room set up a makeshift alarm system with some string and bells on the door in case anyone came around again. It was a string, some bells, and a shotgun.

Affordable home security in the 90s, I guess. The funny part about my cousins makeshift alarm stories that it led to my mom revealing another detail about my life that I never knew about. But as long as I can remember that door, which was replaced several years ago, had a rope bloop of some Christmas bells around the doorknob. The sound of those bells is burned into my memory because they would jingle any time someone opened the door, and my mom would always check that door before going to bed.

As I got older and started doing more work around the house, I would have to use that door a lot, and would get annoyed by it falling off every time I opened the door. I remember getting frustrated and throwing it in the closet once or twice, but my mom got upset and made me put it back. She said that our cousin's alarm system gave her the idea to leave those Christmas bills around. My fiancee and I threw a dinner party one time to celebrate his mom completing chemo. I hired a caterer. We were expecting 25 friends and family, so it was more than the kitchenette of our single story ranch house could handle.

We'd only just moved in, so we didn't have a lot of cooking staples. The caterer said he'd bring everything 75% done, but he needed to finish off some dishes in our kitchen. I told him that that was fine as long as he was finished by five, because the kitchen is centrally located, and we'd prefer that everything be done before the guests arrive due to the intimate nature of the occasion. He said that that would be fine. He arrives as scheduled at 12 p.m.

We gave him until 5, and the guests aren't even arriving until 6, so it's plenty of time. He smelled like actual dog shit. It was more than just a sweat smell. It smelled like a sun-baked diaper. That made me uneasy because he was going to be preparing food for prior sick people and young kids. I just made sure he washed his hands and then left him to his own devices, worrying that I was being presumptuous.

Throughout the entire process, he keeps pulling me aside to ask me questions and have me taste things. Now, it was super busy because my husband had to work during the day and pick up the surprise guest right after, so setting up the deck, decorating, putting things together for the slideshow equipment, coordinating the surprise guest, it was a million little details that we had to take care of. But every 10 minutes, being asked things like, do you prefer this with paprika or without? With this fine, whatever you think, taste it to be sure. This was getting old.

When he was still there at 545, after two gentle reminders I flat out told him I needed him completely out by six no matter what. He apologized and said that there had been a delay because our oven wouldn't stay up to temperature. I had never had a problem with our oven, but I figured he's a professional. Maybe it was a subtle problem. A little before six rolls around, and a few of our friends start trickling in. I decided to tell him whatever is done is done, and whatever isn't, he should just put in the fridge. But he's nowhere to be found. I go out on the deck to ask my friends if they had seen him, and he's out there.

The alcoholic beverage in hand, out of his white chef hat, and now in a t-shirt and jeans, mingling with my friends. I walked out just in time for him to introduce himself to my cousin-in-law, who was a good friend of mine. This is too weird for me. I met him in person for the first time, barely six hours ago. I told him he needed to leave now, so he goes inside and gets his bag, and then he makes a beeline for my bedroom.

I'm taking a back. I say, excuse me, where are you going?" and he says, to change. So first of all, we have a guest bathroom, clearly visible. Second, why can't he wear a t-shirt in Jean's home? I tell him I'm not comfortable with him going into my room, but he insists it'll only be a second. goes in, shuts, and locks the door. I couldn't even get a word out before he went in, and I felt helpless. I was going outside to ask my friends for help to usher him out, but at that point my fiance got there.

My had to explain the situation to him nearly in tears at that point, so he pounded on the door and the caterer came out, still in a t-shirt and jeans. My fiancee said, you shouldn't be in there, you need to leave." And the caterer said, excuse me, but this is not your house. It's not up to you to decide. So my six foot four two hundred sixty pound fiancee tells him, yes, actually it is his house, and puts his hand on his back and guides him to the door. The caterer says, I thought you lived here to me. My fiance says, yes, my fiance lives here with me. And the caterer goes nuts.

He turns to me in screams. You lied to me, you bitch. I have no clue what he's talking about. He starts yelling about how I led him on and calling me a bitch. I don't know who he thought the man in the pictures with me around my house was. So my fiance says, oh no, you won't talk to her that way in my house. Find the door. And the caterer goes into the kitchen and starts throwing the trays of food out of the refrigerator and onto the floor. At that point, my fiance realized two of his brothers, both currently offensive linemen at a college level, had come in and were on the deck.

He signaled to them, and they came inside, and he basically said, this guy's harassing my fiance. Since their family and all boys, and my fiance was the first to get married, they don't get to flex their protective muscles too often, and jumped at the chance to toss this guy out. The party then went on his plan, but I insisted that we just order pizza and throw out all of the food that he made. My fiance and friends kept saying, isn't that a bit much? But I insisted.

We went out late, drinking with his brothers and got home around 3.30am and passed out in our room. Around 5am, I was woken up to a sound of the door opening. I figured we forgot to lock the door and our drunken stupor in a blue open, or one of his family members forgot their keys or something in the house and didn't want to wake us. However, his parents never let themselves in when they knew that we were home, and his brother had had it even more than we did, and was definitely not waking up and driving around 5 a.m. So I wake up my fiancee and whisper, someone just came into the house.

And he said the same thing. Probably, my brother left his wallet or something. I figure I'm being paranoid. And try it to put it to rest when I hear a loud crash sound. With that, my fiance was up and on his feet in one movement. He told me to lock myself in the closet and call 911 while he went and looked around. As I was pulling out my phone, we hear that distinct accent of the caterer. He calls my name. Hello? And I realize it is the insane caterer. I'm not too worried about this caterer physically overpowering my fiancee or me for that matter, so I charge right out there.

The caterer is shirtless, and is clearly on something. He's taking pictures that are of just me off of the wall and holding several in his arms already. He lunges towards me when he sees me. My fiance gets between me and him, and I call 911. My fiance tells him cops have been called, and that it's in his best interest that he gets off the property. The caterer says, no, I have to make sure that she is okay. And then I say, what? Why wouldn't I be okay? And my fiance rightfully says not to engage with him and feed into it.

My fiancee stays between me and him while I climb out the window. He watches as the caterer throws photos of us on the floor. My fiancee didn't want to subdue or touch him in any way, so the caterer couldn't make any kind of assault claims. He's begun to destroy our kitchen at this point, and when the cops come in, he has a butcher knife. My fiance considers going for the gun safe when he first got the knife, since we live in a standard ground state, but he decided that the situation was hectic enough without introducing firearms. The caterer doesn't obey the police's

orders to drop his weapon, and he says he isn't leaving without me, so they taste him. It's lucky for him he only got taste, and he didn't antagonize my husband into squashing him. As he's let out in cuffs, he's shouting how he and I are in love, and it figures that I chose a macho thug over a sweet sensitive artist like him, and all women are horrors, etc. He continues on this tirade. The entire time the police are reading him his rights. The police ask us to do an inventory of the house to see if anything's missing or damaged besides what we witnessed him doing. We go around and there's nothing, but then I remember he was in our room yesterday and

go through out the room. All my panties from the dirty laundry hamper were gone and my vibrator had been moved from where I kept it. We were so freaked out in the aftermath that we replaced all of our kitchenware, toothbrushes, sent our sheets to be professionally cleaned and had a cleaning crew do a deep clean of the whole house. He sent me a letter from prison that thankfully my husband intercepted because I was still recovering from the whole thing. We gave it to the police who helped us issue a no contact order.

He was sentenced to three years in prison five years ago, so he's out by now, but thankfully, we did not meet. 18T fiber presents a straightforward moment. You're one. Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment Your wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire?

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limited availability and select areas, visit atct.com slash Hypergate for details. My mom moved to Canada to stay with her aunt and uncle while she worked. This happened around 1989 when she was around 19 to 20 years old. The company she worked at was on the top three floors of an office tower on Portage Avenue. It was located on the same level as the cafe, so everyone came up to their floor and walked past its reception desk if they wanted something to eat.

The receptionist would often ask my mom to cover for her while she went on her lunch break. While taking over one day, a handsome, middle eastern man came up to her and struck up a conversation. He was in his forties, dressed sharply, was very charming, and said he worked in a company a few floors down. He commented on how attractive she was, and asked if she wanted to do any modeling for his company. He handed her his business card and left. She wasn't weirded out by the guy because he seemed so normal, but asked both her mom and

aunt what she should do. They both told her to go for it, but to call the better business bureau to see if the business was actually legitimate. According to the BBB, it really was. The next day while my mom was working the desk, he approached her again and asked if she put any thought into the offer. He asked her to meet for lunch the next day at the Fairmont Hotel so that they could talk about business. The hotel was in walking distance from the company. And you could see

it through the window of their offices. So she felt safe enough to go by herself. She did tell her co-workers, and they agreed to call the police if she was not back in time. The next day she arrives at the hotel early. She finally spots him at a check-in table. She goes up with him and realizes he's checking into a room. Now she's getting a little weirded out because all he said was that he wanted to have lunch in the restaurant there. He explains to her that he has a brief case full of stuff and that he wanted to present it to her and that it would be more of a private show in the hotel room.

After a bit of arguing between my mom and him, he finally persuades her to go to the room. The check-in staff looked a bit skeptical while they handed him the key. They get to the elevator and that's when she realizes that he doesn't even have a briefcase. And it wouldn't be in the room already because he had just checked in.

Instead of getting the hell out of there like a normal person would, she follows him to the room. She takes the chair by the window while he lays down on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head. He can tell she's uncomfortable. So he asks her, what her dream dream car was and said that she could afford it in a few months by modeling for him. He said all she would have to do was wear different kinds of clothing or lingerie and stand in a separate partition while buyers from all around the world would bid on the outfits. After his spill on the company, he asked her to take off her clothes so he can see her body because she needs to have a good figure to be able to model. Again, she's a bit iffy, but he persuades her to get undressed in the bathroom and walk out in a towel so

that he can get a good look at her. While she's in the bathroom, she hears him talking in a different language and laughing on the phone. She walks out on her towel and he tells her to do a spin while he's on the phone. But she gets freaked out and runs back into the bathroom to get dressed again. She opens the door and bolts out of the room. He stands up and watches her run out down the hallway, but luckily doesn't follow her. She tells her co-workers all about it, but she doesn't call the police because my mom

was so embarrassed that she was dumb enough to fall for all of it. A few days later while walking into work, she sees a bunch of cop cars surrounding the building. She later finds out from a co-worker that guy was arrested for a solicitation of prostitution. She was freaking out that she would get in trouble for getting into that situation, but the officers never asked her to come in for questioning. Two weeks later, while walking to her parked car in the back alley, she saw him sitting in his car watching her with a big smirk on his face. I guess

he got out on Belle. She ran to her car and spit out of there. That was the last time she ever saw him, as she moved back home a few months later. So creep, stay away from my mom and let's not meet. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a True Horror podcast. This outro has been recently re-recordeded as some changes were made at the request of an author for safety or privacy reasons. The credits for this week's show are all still available in the show notes. 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 have a story you'd like to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Thanks for listening. See you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine.

I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas, visit AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details. AT&T Fiber presents a straightforward moment. Your wine? Thanks.

I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine.

I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Giga Gillionaire, with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas, visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details.