Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 3x25: Housesitting Gone Wrong - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: April 27, 2020

Stories in this episode: Worst. Neighbor. EVER. - thelilspookygirl. Housesitting gone wrong - BladingBeastie.  an ex-convict who got a little too close (an understatement) - bitterdrake. Visit betterhelp.com/meet to get 10% off your first month! Join the over 800,000 people in taking charge of their mental health with the help of an experienced professional today. Check out this other awesome, similar podcast: https://audioboom.com/channel/theletsreadpodcast  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  - Merch - https://www.teepublic.com/user/letsnotmeet  - Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/letsnotmeetstreams 

Are you tired of the hassle of exchanging your propane grill tank? Do you hate lugging your tank all the way to the store and back? Introducing SINCH, your ultimate solution for propane grill tank exchange. SINCH delivers propane tanks right to your door so you can focus on what really matters. Grilling up that perfect burger. And right now, you can get your first tank exchange delivered for just $10. When you use code fun at checkout, just head to SINCH.com today. That's cynch.com today. That's c-i-n-c-h.com.

Limited time offer restrictions apply. Visit cinch.com slash offer for details. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season three, episode 25 of Let's Not Meet, a true or a podcast. This happened two summers ago, while I was house sitting out in California for an older couple that I had met at a conference for work. It seemed like a dream scenario. The couple wanted to vacation in Hawaii for two weeks, but didn't want to board their cats, and I had been chatting with them about wanting to visit California again, where

they happened to live, because I loved it the first time I went there. And we figured that we could mutually benefit if I came out there and house that for them. So I flew out there and they showed me around for a few days. They taught me how to care for the cats, two of them, one that was extremely shy, and I barely saw, which is important for later, and their plants. They gave me access to their house and cars, these people were very generous. And before I knew it, I had dropped them off at the airport, and I was on my own. Now first I was on a dream vacation. I was staying in Oakland, and taking trips to San Francisco,

Sonoma, Monare. In the mornings I could walk out the front door and shortly be hiking the paths surrounding nearby Mount Diablo, and it was ultra-content with the world. I was so enamored by the area that I had actually started looking into some steps to relocate out there. But one day, about halfway through my final week there, when I got back to the house I felt really odd. Almost like, I shouldn't go inside. I shook it off and went inside anyway because it was getting late, and I needed to put out dinner for the cats. Once I was inside, I forced myself to ignore how

off it felt. And I made some food for myself, went to bed, and was shocked to find the shy cat hiding under my bed and crying. This was the first time I had seen her close up. The entire time that I had been there, up to that point she never left my host's bedroom, unless she didn't realize I was around. Again I ignored the weird feeling, and just assumed she decided that I was okay, and I went to bed. I did start locking the bedroom door that night, though, and I also remember about halfway through the night.

I thought I heard someone walking around in the gravel outside the window. But after listening for a bit, I didn't hear anything else, and just went back to sleep. The day after, in the morning, I still felt a bit odd, but kept up my plans for the day. I drove out to a music festival in Sonoma, and went clothes shopping. I had an overall great day. When I got back to the house, though, I found the front door locked in a way I hadn't left it. Basically, my hosts never locked the deadbolt, only the lower second lock, and that's the only lock my key worked on, so I never messed with the deadbolt. But it was definitely locked.

So, I had to call my hosts and find a hide-a-key, which to their credit, safety wise, was buried a whole foot underneath a bush outside and had definitely not been unearthed in a long time. So, I used that when inciting, kept the key with me just in case it happened again. And it did, with a different door. And this time, I had stepped out into the garage to get a drink. And when I turned to go back to the house, the door was shut and locked. I could use my normal key on that door, but I would still pretty be wildered.

My own cats are wack, so I think that in my mind I was trying to come up with a way that the cats could be locking me out of the house, but I was coming up empty. I decided I must have been misunderstanding how the locks worked and just rode it off and started checking and triple checking the locks when I went out of the house or into the garage. That night when I went to bed I really felt this awful feeling of unease. It was still there. And so was the shy cat who was clearly unhappy to see me but also wouldn't leave the room. But again I just locked my

bedroom door and went to sleep. The next morning felt awful. Nazia, body ache. I had no desire to leave the house, so I decided to stay in and Netflix for a day. This vacation stay was like a full two weeks, so I didn't feel like I was in any hurry to get all my touristy things in anyway. But as the day went on, I started to feel that feeling of wrongness again, and it morphed into an incredibly watched feeling around mid-afternoon. I got to the point that I was so uneasy that even feeling awful I decided to get out of the house for a bit and shake it off. I was getting a bit low on food so I went to the grocery store and bought a couple of food items that I didn't think would hurt my stomach. And as I started to leave the

checkout, the cashier said the generic have a great evening. And I instantly, I just started crying, shocking myself, and the poor cashier, because I had just had this intrusive thought that said, you might be the last person to ever say that to me. When I got into my car, I was still crying, and my entire body was telling me not to drive back to the house. I couldn't not, though, because I didn't want to neglect the cat, so I drove back, parked in the driveway, and convinced myself after about half an hour to just go and open the front door. Once I did that, I thought I would get over it, and I would be able to at least feed the cats and maybe

I'd go get a hotel room afterwards. But my body physically would not let me get inside. It was like I was stuck in the entryway. I then made a deal with myself. I would yell into the house saying I had already called the police and that they were on their way. In panic logic, I figured that would make anyone who was in the house leave. So, I faced the inside of the house,

looking down the hallway towards the bedrooms, and did just that. The second I finished saying, they're almost here, so if you want to avoid being arrested, you need to leave now. The light in my host's room turned on and I heard banging. I immediately high-tailed it back to the car, called the police for real, and proceeded to have a mental breakdown while talking

to the dispatcher. Once they got there, they checked the house, and didn't find anyone, but the double doors to my host's bedroom were left wide open. I'm glad the cats didn't get out. There was also a pile of food wrappers in the corner behind the blinds, so they said it looked like someone had been there. What makes it so scary to me is that nothing was taken, and based on the shape of the house, that would have been the perfect vantage point to see me in the living room as I stayed

home sick. To explain this, the house was in an L-shape, and from the windows into the garden that were in my host bedroom, you could see the living room windows. Also, the minute the police were gone, they said they couldn't prove anyone was there. There were no signs of forced entry, and we couldn't get a hold of my hosts immediately to verify if anything had been taken. Which once they were back, they verified that nothing had been taken as well. So they said they'd patrol a bit, but nothing else. The shy cat was right back in the host's bedroom, and I didn't see her again until I left

to go back home. So basically, I think the intruder had been there at least two days, forcing her to choose between two strangers and leading her to choose one that was at least a little less strange. Me. It messed me up pretty bad, especially because they didn't catch the person and they didn't seem to have any desire to look. I still had to stay at that house for the next three days. Nothing else odd happened, and I didn't feel off the rest of the time

that I was there, but the damage was done. I never felt completely safe in a home without doing a complete search before bed since. But I am extremely glad my gut spoke up. I guess I'd rather have some residual anxiety than be dead. So whoever was in my host's house watching me, let's please never meet. Hey guys, I just wanted to take a quick break to tell you about the Let's Read Podcast. As centers around narrating true scary experiences from real people, just like let's not meet, ranging from creepy stalkers to paranormal encounters with the other side, with the goal to low you into your beautiful nightmares.

Join narrator Let's Read as his sultry tones guide you through some of the most terrifying experiences one can imagine. Whether you're on the go or stuck at home, exercising or doing your homework, chores or just trying to relax, let's read podcast will help you zone out of the world and hone in on horrors experienced by others, first person encounters. Let's read has been described as human ambian with the ability to declutter even the most anxious mind with merely his voice. And with over 600,000 subscribers on YouTube

and podcast, one can begin to understand why. Subscribe now on Apple podcasts, Spotify, Google podcast, Stitcher or wherever you're listening now. Now back to the show. In the summer of 2018, I was in a long-distance relationship. Not that long. He only lived about four hours away. Well, it was pretty serious, though. But also pretty new at the time. My boyfriend, who had driven those four hours to see me on every break that we had from school, essentially begged me to come visit him at his grandmother's house.

I didn't have a car at the time, but I really wanted to impress him and show my dedication to the relationship by going to visit him. So I dropped some coin on a greyhound bus and was excited to meet up with him. At first everything seemed fine. I took a seat at the back of the bus because I really didn't want to speak to anyone, but the bus was pretty full, so inevitably this guy sat next to me. There were no red flags. They just seemed like a regular guy, maybe in his late 20s, early 30s, so I put my earbuds in and just ignored him.

Before I continue, I'd like to highlight some character flaws of mine at that time. Well, when this happened I was 18. I was extremely non-judgmental. I tended to see the best in people, even too a fault. This tends to land me in very bad and sometimes dangerous situations. At 18, I simply didn't know any better and I kind of looked over

potentially concerning actions. There was a guy in the seat in front of us who would not stop talking, to no one in particular, but he was facing a girl in the next set of seats across from him. Again, I didn't want to judge. Maybe he had some type of mental problem. He couldn't help it. He was doing no harm, so I ignored him and continued to stare out the window, listening to music. That is until he turned around and stared at me. Now I might have been naive, but I wasn't stupid.

A chill ran through my spine as I made eye contact with him. He had these cold, callous eyes and his skin lacked so much saturation it looked like he'd been covered in dust. I take out my earbuds and he immediately turns to the guy next to me. And they engage in conversation. I was really set on edge when I overheard them discussing how they were both ex-convicts and it recently got an out of prison. Remember me being non-judgmental?

I figured maybe they served prison time for something that was minor, given their access to public transportation. But I'm not sure how all of that works, obviously. They don't do background checks for cray-hound buses, but still, I tried not to think anything of it. The man in front of us turns to me now, and I can't remember exactly what he said, but he called me baby, which kind of freaked me out.

But I couldn't say I wasn't used to it. I figured it was just another grown, creep hitting on me. Anoid, I put my earbuds back in and ignored him until the bus stopped at a rest stop. Most people got off, including the guy next to me, leaving just me and the guy in front of me, in the back of the bus. He asked if I would come up and sit next to him and make friendly conversation, and my dumbass actually did it. Keep in mind that I was 18 and unfathomably stupid. And I also lacked that gut feeling that something was wrong. He starts telling me that he just got out of prison and he hasn't seen a woman in

a long time. I said something along the lines of that's unfortunate and inched away from him. He scootered over to me so close that our legs were touching and that's when my heart rate started to pick up. The next thing I know, his hands are on me. He'd wrapped them around my waist, and went on about how small it was, and then commented about how it had been so long since he touched a woman. I was paralyzed. I had no idea what to do. He kept going on about how I should be a model while continuing to grow for me. Again, I was absolutely terrified and couldn't bring myself to move. Soon enough, everybody got back onto the bus, including the guy who sat next to me, who shot the other man, a weird look that prompted him to let me go.

I scrambled out of the seat and still sat behind him not knowing what else I should do, but feeling safer that other people were on the bus. He didn't bother me again after that, so I just prayed that it would stay that way, but it gets worse. The bus stops at another rest stop, and this time I get off, not wanting to be stuck in that vehicle again. I'm just chilling as much as one can chill after something like that. When a girl I recognized from the bus came up to me.

She said, Hey, that guy you were talking to? He just left in a car, but is circling the building. He keeps leaving and then coming back. I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier. I thanked her for the warning. I put on a hoodie and the 85-degree weather flipped it up so he wouldn't see me and I got back on the bus. Luckily, I never saw him again. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone what had happened due to my lack of competence and general understanding of how the world can be. When I met up with my boyfriend, I gave him very vague details, wanting to forget it ever happened, but now I don't think that's possible. X convict on the Greyhound bus lets never meet again.

Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize coaching services, to programs that hone your leadership skills and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development. Online, in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com.

Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com.

Last year after a blissful first year of living in a new apartment all on my own for the first time, a man moved in next door that I'll never forget. The layout of my apartment is crucial to understanding the incident. The most important part is that my balcony and his balcony are only partially separated by a wall. There is a solid two-foot gap in which you can easily walk from one to the other. For context, I previously had a very lovely woman living next door for the entire first year that I lived there, who never crossed this balcony threshold without

being explicitly invited. I only throw this in there so you can understand that I wasn't previously concerned about someone infiltrating my space. This is the first time I met this new neighbor. He was unloading the groceries from his massive truck into the assigned parking spot next to mine. As I was driving up, he and a girl I assumed to be his girlfriend were unloading boxes from Costco. I noticed them speaking, and as soon as I was out of my car, they went silent.

I nodded to them. I proceeded to the elevator, and the guy ran up behind me, and threw some boxes down and begged me to wait. No problem, I'm a good neighbor. While in the elevator, the girlfriend refused to make eye contact or speak to me. A little weird, but I just thought she was shy. But he quickly introduced himself, and was extremely chatty. In the first 45 seconds, it takes to get to the floor where our apartments were.

He asked how I liked the place. Where I was from. And where I worked. Looking back, his enthusiasm was a little strange, but I chalked it up to him being excited to be in a new place. For the sake of the rest of this story, let's call him Sam. Sam was maybe 33, 6-foot tall, with a slim muscular build. He also had hair buzzed extremely short, as if to mask his balding. Pretty average looking by all accounts. The first few weeks we run into each other, he makes small talk, and he always refers to me as Miss. I assume it's because he forgot my name, and he wanted to be polite. I almost never see his girlfriend after that first night, but occasionally I can hear him talking to this lady and his apartment as the walls are reasonably thin.

One night, about three months after Sam moved in, my boyfriend is spending the night and we're watching movies on the couch. It's maybe 11.30 pm. The back of my couch is against the wall that I share with Sam, and we hear some banging noises. My first thought is that it was he and his girlfriend getting it on. Boyfriend and I laugh, and I turn up the volume a little bit to drown them out. Then, in addition to the banging, the neighbors begin screaming. We can hear objects being thrown, glass shattering. The words are muffled, but there is distinctively anger and crying going on. My boyfriend, the gym that he is, steps into the semi-shared balcony and in his loudest

voice ever, he yells, without crossing Sam's balcony. Everything okay in there? The girl opens the sliding glass door on Sam's side a minute or two later and says, sorry about that. So we leave it alone. I'm concerned, but we have no idea what actually happened, and we decide to go to bed. This was a big mistake. I wake up around 3 a.m. to more screaming, but my boyfriend refuses to wake me up, and I'm not about

to take my five-foot self to break up whatever is going on at 3 a.m. I consider calling the police, but I was a bit drowsy and convinced myself that maybe I dreamed it. I deeply regret that decision. The next morning, I woke up to some terrible personal news, an entirely unrelated death of a friend, and pretty much that put the events of the night on the back burner. I didn't forget, but it also wasn't on my mind. Fast forward about two weeks, it's a warm day and I'm outside reading a book in a robe sports bra and shorts.

I'm in my chair that faces away from Sam's apartment. So I can't see his side from where I am. I'm deep in my book when suddenly I get tapped on the shoulder. Sam is standing behind me and he asks, if we can talk for a second. This man is already crossed in, albeit invisible,, by coming onto my side of the balcony. But I also can't get to my door without physically moving him aside, so I ask him what's going on.

He told me it was his birthday and asked if I knew where to get some weed because I seemed like a girl who knows how to have a good time. As we live in a state where weed is legal, I told him that I'm sure Google would provide the best dispensary in the area, but I personally didn't have any. He proceeds to tell me how drunk he got last night, and at this point I'm itching for an exit. As I start to move, as if to signal that I'm done talking. He reaches out from my shoulder and tells me he hit, slash, scratched my car last night because he was driving very, very wasted. Remember his massive truck? He says all of this with a smile on his face almost laughing. I'm

surprised, but mostly want to get away from him because my creep senses are starting to tingle and I don't want to blow up at him for hitting my car. He says he'll send me his insurance information if I give him my number and thankfully I knew that would be a bad call. I make a bad nervous joke about knowing where he lived and said if the damage was bad enough, I would knock on his door to get the insurance information. He counters by saying that he will leave a note with his info on my door. He retreats from my balcony, while also saying he'd prefer to just pay me cash and not

involve insurance. I give it an hour or so, then I head down to assess the damage. I did this because I didn't want to walk down at the same time as him. I would risk having him follow me. Sure enough, there are two long scratches on the driver's side door. They're not deep or worthy of a call to insurance immediately, just kind of superficial. I really didn't want to get involved with him in any way, so I decided that I could deal with the scratches. But this little event has kind of shaken me. At this point, I knew something was off about him. Nothing unusual happens as far as I'm aware this night. However, the next day is a Saturday. I have worked the next day, and I'm at home, all

alone, watching some action movie. It's around 11 p.m. I'm on the sofa with my cat, curled up on top of me, and the movie is relatively loud, so it takes me a little while to register this banging noise coming from the hallway of my apartment building. I honestly only noticed because my cat had woken up and got all puffed up and freaked out. I turned down the volume of the film and suddenly the banging is getting louder and louder. Suddenly the banging is getting louder and louder. And just as I stand up, I hear five words no one wants to hear, coming from their door. Open up, it's the police. Mesdemic dropped to the floor.

I had lied to Sam the day before. I totally had weed, and I had smoked a joint outside on the balcony. The part furthest away from Sam's, maybe 20 minutes before. I'm totally panicked. I as a kite and trying to control my breathing so I don't immediately come off as suspicious before I answer the door. I remember checking the people to see a close-up of a cop's face, and then opening the door, coming face to face with six officers, all with guns drawn. I'm about 0.5 seconds away from completely pissing my pants and fear, still convinced I'm somehow in trouble for smoking a joint. The officer who seems to be in charge

can sense instantly the level of my panic, and he says, ma'am, you're not in trouble. We need to speak with you about your neighbor, can we come in? At this point, I'm reeling, and my whole being is tense. I let the cops in, but my heart hasn't moved from my throat. The policeman in charge asks me about my interactions with Sam. I tell him I barely know him, and that he lives next to me, only moved in a few months ago. I asked why they needed to be in my

apartment. I'm scared, but also I don't typically get along with cops, and I have the right to know why six of them practically wave their guns in my face. The lead officer proceeds to tell me that Sam is a bad guy. The apparently beat his girlfriend so badly the night prior that she was now in ICU for her injuries. They told me that Sam had a gun and had barricaded himself in the apartment next to mine. They said they had spoken to my building manager and knew my place had access to his balcony and they needed to use it.

Then they asked me to go into the bedroom and lock the doors and turn the lights off. The next 30 to 45 minutes were absolute hell. In my panic, I had left my cell phone on my kitchen counter and had to sit in my room listening to the commotion. No shots were ever fired, but there was a lot of yelling and what sounded like things being thrown eventually, after what felt like a lifetime the maid officer knocked on my door and told me that Sam had been arrested and thanked me for letting them use my apartment. They asked me questions

for maybe 15 minutes and then left. I wish this is where the story ended, but there is a bit more. In the days following Sam's arrest, I became even more panicked about him coming back to the apartment building, worried about retaliation. I hadn't said anything to the police to technically incriminate him. I had proof of nothing except his word that he was the one who scratched my car, but I didn't tell them about the night my boyfriend and I heard them fighting. About five minutes later, Sam reappeared at the building as I was coming home from work one evening. He tried to approach me, but the elevator shut just as he was running to catch it. My whole body got tense,

like the feeling when you come close to getting in a car accident but narrowly avoiding it. I stayed off my balcony entirely from this point and always kept the curtains closed. We didn't speak or really see each other at all for another few weeks. And then we had our final interaction. Sam stopped me in the parking lot one night, running after me, as I was about to get into the elevator. He begged me to tell him why I let the cops in that night. I told him on his truth that I was stoned, didn't know what to do, and had a bad history with the cops. This is all true, and again, I was concerned about him trying to retaliate. He then got pretty upset and kept trying to repeat the questions. Obviously wanting a different answer from me. When I couldn't give him one, he then

offered me $3,000 to testify as a character witness on his behalf, because I quote, knew him, and I knew how he really treated women. That was speechless and very freaked out. That was speechless and very freaked out. He told me his hearing was next Thursday morning, and he asked if I could show up. I was like a deer frozen in headlights for a moment, and then somehow got the hell out of there after mumbling a sting of words that were almost likely in coherent. The Wednesday night before his trial, I came home from work, and my cat was acting very weird. Like something had spooked her, and her tail was all puffed out.

I kind of shook it off, but I noticed through the curtains that there was something taped to the outside of my sliding glass door. Apparently Sam had left a post it with his phone number and name underneath it. I'm counting on you, it said. Needless to say, I never showed up. I took a photo of the post that grabbed my cat, locked all the doors, and stayed at my mom's house for about five days after that happened. I did phone the police to let them know that he had been on my balcony again, but they never followed up with anything. Eventually my boyfriend came and we went back to my place

together. Everything was as it should have been. We never saw Sam again. But a few weeks later, a lady I had never met before was cleaning out his apartment. Later, a lady I had never met before was cleaning out his apartment. Maybe a month after that, new people moved in. Things had been normal ever since. I tried calling the police and the county jail to see if he was in lockup again, but no one was able to release the information to me. I'm hoping that means he's there. If he did, what the police said that he did.

To Sam, I will say, I'm not really sure what happened, but my biggest regret is not calling the police when I felt I should have in my gut. Let's never Meet, a true horror podcast. This week you have heard, worst neighbor ever, by Reddit user Little Spooky Girl. How's sitting gone wrong by Reddit user Blading Beastie? And finally, an ex-convec two got a little too close, by Reddit user bitter drink. I hope you enjoyed this week's episode, and if you'd like more, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to get this weekend's bonus episode along with

all of the previous episodes. And don't forget, you can always send your stories in to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and follow me on Twitch at twitch.tv-forward-let's-not-meat-strange-where-I'm streaming video games, horror movies, and just chatting. Most nights around 8 p.m. Pacific Standard Time. I'll see you next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. When you download the Croger app, you have easy access to savings every day. Shop weekly sales and get personalized coupons to get the most value out of every trip every time, whether you shop in-store or online.

Download the Croger app now to save big. Croger, fresh for everyone, must have a digital account to redeem offers. Restrictions may apply, see site for details. La comunidad de Esnegras e Ispanas se vende es preporcionalmente afectadas por la enfermedad de las células falsifórmese, una enfermedadadora, que puede provocar anemia, fatiga, crisis de dolor, insuficiencia en diversos órganos, inmuerte prematura. Un nuevo estudio de investigación ofrece el potencial para luchar contra la enfermedad de células falsiformas. Visite ruby-scd-stary.com para obtener más información sobre una opción de tratamiento en investigación para la enfermedad de células falsiformes. El estudio ahora está recrutando personas de 18 a 50 años en Dallas.

Visite ruby-scd-stary.com enfermedad de células falsiformes. El estudio ahora está recrutando personas de 18 a 50 años en Dallas. Visite ruby-scd-stary.com