Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 6x06: Hotel Hell - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: May 10, 2021Stories in this episode: -Creepy Coffee Guy and My Savior Dog - M (00:56). -Stranger Danger - Jennifer H (19:29). -The Man On The Path - Dean Cole (27:29). -Hotel Hell - Drew Ashley (36:29).  A...ll of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com.  Get access to weekly bonus episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast, ad-free versions of the free shows and 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! Try EveryPlate for just $1.99 per meal plus an additional 20% off your next 2 boxes by going to EveryPlate.com and entering code meet199. To try Shudder free for 30 days, go to shudder.com and use promo code meet. You can pre-order the Wave 2 on the website, or you can still order the original Embr Wave, which would make a great gift for your mom this Mother's Day. You can save $50 on either product by visiting embrwave.com/meet. Follow Let's Not Meet: - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Merch - https://letsnotmeetmerch.com - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/retroxpizza Â
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This podcast contains adult language and content.
The stories in this show can be frightening
and disturbing for some.
Listener discretion is advised.
If you have a story to share,
send it to let's not meet Stories at gmail.com.
Enjoy the show.
My name is Andrew Tate and this is season six, episode six of Let's Not Meet, a true horror
podcast. It's 2014.
I'm in my mid-twenties.
I had just moved back to the city after getting out of an abusive relationship for two years,
and I got an apartment with my best friend and her boyfriend, Marie and Robbie. Also, they're very sweet, loving, big, loud
and intimidating-looking dog, Bailey.
The goal was living it up, AKA getting trashed every night,
not actually my best life.
And what I really mean is spiraling.
I was a drunk mess more than half of the time
and I didn't make great decisions.
But I was so confined by my previous relationship and separated from my friends for so long that
I decided that I would deal with my trauma by drinking it away, as well as casually dating
and enjoying my time.
I worked as an assistant manager at a cosmetic store in our local mall.
My co-workers and I frequently made friends with people who worked within the mall.
We had a little network of people that we knew and chatted with.
So when my co-worker told me that their friend who worked down at the coffee shop was interested
in me, I said, give him my number.
I said he wasn't looking for anything serious,
but he found me attractive and asked them about me. So one night we meet up for a beer at
a local brewery after work. The connection was fine, at least the coffee guy and I had
a friendship started, and he was attractive and seemed fun. We're both what I thought, honest and upfront about what we're looking for.
We talk about how I just moved back to the city, and he knew the area that I lived in because
he was going to college near my apartment.
We part ways at the end of the night, and agree to hang out a few days later on a Wednesday.
My day off. We're going to make dinner at few days later on a Wednesday. My day off.
We're gonna make dinner at his apartment and watch a movie.
So we lightly text a bit between each other.
Again, it's fine, but I'm already getting a sense that he's a little bit more attached
than I feel comfortable with.
Cut to Monday night.
I get home from work and almost immediately after I get home, I get a text
from the coffee guy. Hey, are you home? I'm feeling slightly creeped out as he asked almost
immediately after I walked through my door, but he doesn't know exactly where I live, right?
It's just a coincidence. He starts to go on about how he just got out of class and had a terrible day between work
and school, and he'd really like to see me.
He knows that my apartment isn't far from the campus.
Could he come over and just chill for a bit?
I say yes, but I do feel a bit weird about this whole interaction.
So I tell him my address and he gets there
within five minutes. Now I know I live close to the campus, but it's at least a couple
of miles away. So maybe he took an Uber. He comes up and he's overjoyed to see me. He's
practically sitting on top of me on the couch, and he's hugging me. And the overall level of physical affection, it's just making me uncomfortable.
He talks about how much he's loving talking to me, how we should go to a movie later in the week.
He's getting very excited, which is a combination of endearing and dude, this isn't what I'm looking for right now. Suddenly, the dog bursts in
and wedges his way between us. Now Bailey was incredibly protective of me, but I had never seen him
like this, physically pushing the coffee guy away from me, sitting on top of my lab and wedging his head onto my shoulder and just staring.
Oh, you have a dog. He says in this tone that's completely different from before, seemingly
annoyed.
Yes, this is my roommate's dog. Oh, you didn't mention you had a roommate. Even more annoyed. I still get a vibe that he's almost mad at me.
Yeah, Marie and Robbie. Do you fuck Robbie? He says, stone-faced.
What? No, that's my friend's boyfriend. There's immediately an intensity in the room.
We had a weird moment of silence when suddenly Marie and Robbie walked through the back door.
I'm going to go, he says.
He seems weirdly angry.
But after just getting out of an abusive relationship, I don't want to push the issue.
When it comes to weirdly quiet upset men, it just frees.
I immediately feel strangely uncomfortable, and like I'm really not sure if I want to
see him again.
The interaction with Bailey, it was just bizarre.
Now I could stop the story right here and talk about how I learned my lesson about the
creepy possessive Malmoresta, but like I said, I didn't make good decisions
at this time of my life. I still went over on Wednesday. Still got weird vibes, but didn't feel
strong enough to speak for myself at this point. We hung out maybe two more times, but it continued
to get wildly uncomfortable. He made comments about how I should meet his family.
And when we bumped into a friend of his,
he called me the one while squeezing my shoulder.
We were laying down watching a movie.
And he says, we should do this the rest of our lives.
He seemed sweet, but it wasn't what I was looking for.
And something was intense and just felt off.
I noticed a few odd moments,
like when he asked me about how many men I've slept with,
or if there are other guys that measured up to him,
I'd find him peering over my shoulder
when I would get a text message
and suddenly get jealous of anyone who I was talking to.
He also had a bit of a temper. When I left his apartment, I knew that we would have a conversation and I wasn't
going to be seeing him again. So we did. And he didn't take it well. He replied, but we have a
real connection. I love you. And out of nowhere, oh, what the fuck, bitch, really?
I wasn't about to get into something abusive like this again.
We had only hung out maybe three or four times.
And now, here is where the story really begins.
Coffee guy continues to text me.
I either tell him, no, I'm sorry,
or I just completely ignore him.
So one Saturday night, he's texting me, asking if we can meet up and talk, and I tell him
no.
I'm just not that interested.
I'm sorry.
I wish you the best.
I go out with three or four of my friends from work, and we're sitting in a booth in
the basement at the same brewery he and I had originally gone to.
We're talking in bullshitting and they're asking me about the whole situation with
coffee guy.
And if he was still texting me, we giggle about him for a minute, make a few jokes about
how I'd never want to meet him in a dark alley, and move on.
My friend Danielle gets up to grab another round for everyone at the table, takes two steps,
immediately freezes, then sits back down.
He's sitting right behind you.
She says to me quietly.
What?
Who?
I exclaim, confused.
That fucking coffee guy, he looked me dead in the eye as soon as I stood up.
He had to have heard our conversation.
I, now feeling scared but bold with my friends with me and having some liquid courage, loudly
exclaim, fuck it, let him say something to me.
He wouldn't be so bold to actually talk to me here,
would he? Did he follow me from the mall? I try to brush it off, but have an uneasy feeling
in the pit of my stomach. A few minutes pass and he comes over to the table. So this is
where you've been hiding, he exclaims. I've been texting you all day. What did you lose your phone?
Without even having a chance to get my words out,
my friend stands up and exclaims,
you're fucking creeping her out, dude.
Back off.
We all get up and leave.
He tries to grab my arm as I walk away.
We need to have a conversation, he says,
with much more anger in his voice this time.
I pull away, flip him off, and head up the stairs and out of the bar.
We then decide to head off to one of our other watering holes.
The night is young, and he's already told me that he doesn't go to those bars because
they're too seedy, so I feel safe knowing I realistically won't bump into him there.
So we head off to bar number two.
It's about a 25 minute walk.
We're all just laughing about the bizarre incident
with coffee guy.
We hang out out back and two of my friends
go inside to grab a beer.
And about two minutes later, come barreling outside.
Again, with that look of what the actual
fuck on their face.
Coffee guy just walked in, they said.
What?
Let's go before he sees you.
Maybe it was coincidence?
No, he had to have followed me here.
He's already said he doesn't go to these bars.
I don't think he saw me, but he saw my friends.
And that was enough for the fear to rush over me. Also, I'm bust. It's barely past midnight,
and the bars are still open for another two more hours. And no one was going to stop me from drinking.
So we run off to the scurvy dog, my favorite bar, thinking, I've got to be safe there.
We run off to the scurvy dog, my favorite bar, thinking, I've got to be safe there. We get to scurvy, and everything seems fine.
I'm hanging out with my friends, playing pool, and popping in and out of the bar between
smoking and drinking.
My group of girlfriends had gone out and slowly start to head home, asking if I want to go
with them.
But I again am too stubborn and idiotic to miss out on last call.
I know the majority of people here, I feel safe.
I'm thinking that someone would have to be a fucking idiot to come here and try something
with me.
Around 10 minutes before the bar is about to close, I'm hanging out with an acquaintance
chatting in the corner when someone spends me around.
It's coffee guy.
We need to have a conversation," he said, looking
at me, with anger radiating through his body. His face was bright red. I freeze.
What the fuck are you doing here? Did you fucking follow me? He slowly guides me outside.
I'm afraid. I can't speak. Every memory of my ex is flowing through my brain and
I'm terrified that he's going to hit me or worse. He pulls me into the side alley of the bar and
starts talking to me, begging me, and pleading that I see him again. To give him another chance.
Initially I say, no, absolutely not. And at least attempt to stand my ground, but I realize he's getting angrier.
And the bar has let out, but no one knows we're standing here.
The music is so loud, so if I try to scream, no one would hear me.
He takes my phone.
He shows me my fucking location is shared with him and is turned on on Snapchat.
He told me he did it for my safety.
Fucking whore.
What are you fucking some other guy?
Is that it?
Am I not good enough for you?
I'm attempting to light a cigarette and he's ripping them out of my mouth and smashing
them on the ground, but then immediately crying and apologizing.
It's 2.30. We've been arguing for over 40 minutes in an alleyway,
and no one is left in the bar. I decide I'm going to craft the plan that will appease him
enough for now. Get me home safely, and I'll deal with it tomorrow.
Yeah, okay, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I'm sorry, but I need to go home,"
I said.
It's near three o'clock in the morning. It's the middle of December in New England. There's
no one out. He gets excited.
Come back to my place. I lie. No, I have work early in the morning, and I need to change.
He starts to wrap his arm around me.
I'm terrified.
I really need to pretend like everything is fine for my own safety in this moment.
It begins begging and pleading with me.
But I decide at least in this moment, I'm going to put my foot down because at least
going home should be a reasonable request.
I'll come with you," he says.
I'm fumbling with my freezing fingers in the cold, trying to get an uber.
No, no, no.
My roommates don't like it when I have guys stay over that they don't know.
Twenty-five agonizing minutes later, the uber shows up.
We agree I'm going home and he can't stay over.
So I get in the uber and I feel like Cinderella stepping into a fucking pumpkin carriage,
escaping this obsessive, crazy barista.
He jumps into the uber.
What are you doing?
I just want to make sure you get home safe.
He grabs my leg, grips it hard.
We sit in silence for the ride, except for me exclaiming every few minutes.
I don't know why you got in the car.
You can't stay over.
We pull up to the apartment.
How the fuck am I going to pull this off?
It gets out.
I get out. Okay, so by what do you have
another fucking guy coming over? He's infuriated. He's grabbing my wrists, telling me he will
come inside. All I can think about is how the fuck did I end up here? My friend hooked
me up for a casual hookup buddy,
and now he's screaming at me in front of my apartment
at 4 a.m., and I'm convinced something terrible
is about to happen.
That's when Bailey starts barking
and smashing into the window loudly, even I jump.
He's completely losing it, like I've never seen before.
He knows I'm in trouble. This is why he got weird when he realized I had a dog. My apartment lights turn on and I can see
Robbie's silhouette standing in the window trying to calm Bailey down. I have to go the dogs upset.
He can see me. I rip away, suddenly refilled with courage that I had earlier in the evening.
You're just going to make me walk home now?
What the fuck?
Fuck you!
He starts coming after me.
But Robbie at this point had realized I'm outside and opened the door for me.
Coffee guy immediately stops when he sees Robbie.
The next day, Robbie called the guy and told him if he ever came near me again, he'd
fucking kill him.
I had mall security walk me in and out of the mall every day, and shortly after he got
transferred to a new coffee shop across town.
For a long time, I dealt with a lot of guilt and confusion over the situation.
I know I didn't lead him on, but to go from one abusive relationship to an abusive hook-up
really threw me for a loop.
Now, I'm sober, married, a mom, and living 1200 miles away.
But just in case he didn't get the picture the first time,
Coffee guy lets not meet ever again.
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I'll preface this by saying I was a young girl around nine years old and it was the fall of 93
I Was a latch key kid as nine years old, and it was the fall of 93.
I was a latch-key kid, as were many of the children in my area.
I grew up in a sort of sketchy part of town,
with some folks who were clearly on drugs,
but for the most part, they left you alone
if you ignored them.
Now, during this time frame,
schools were encouraging parents
to pick up their children from school,
and if they couldn't, kids should have a walking buddy, and most importantly, not talk to strangers.
I didn't really know why until I looked up recently, just out of curiosity.
In July of 93, it was reported that a six-year-old girl was lured away from her front yard with
the offer of candy and ice cream.
She was kidnapped, assaulted, and then strangled to death.
Only a true fucking monster can do something like that to an innocent little child.
Thankfully, they found the killer the next day, but naturally, schools and parents were on high alert
to teach children to stay safe, especially those who walked to and from school.
Of course, none of us kids were told these specifics, but word had gotten out
with the simple slogan, Stranger Danger.
Anyway, it was a beautiful day after school, and my best friend and I, who I'll call Sandy,
decided to go to my house so that we could play with my barbies and watch cartoons until
our mom got off to come pick her up.
I know, two little nine-year-old girls aren't much of a threat to a determined adult, but
we were both pretty smart and always looked out for each other
so we made great walking buddies. As we approached my neighborhood, I noticed that the streets
were really quiet. We didn't see any cars, no one was outside. Again, not that weird since
it's about 2.30 and most of the adults are still at work.
We get to the corner of my block and we both notice a man
about mid-30s wearing dirty clothes on the ground
lying in the street closer to the sidewalk.
He wasn't moving.
We immediately got quiet and looked at each other.
Sandy whispered,
is he on drugs or is he dead?'
We hold hands as we get closer,
since we have to cross the street
when he sees us and starts yelling.
Help me, please help me, help me get up.
Oh Lord, please help me get up."
Now we're both scared,
but we're also both very skeptical.
Sandy says back, don't worry, we'll get you an adult.
They can help you.
He then says, no, I need you to help me.
You're both right there.
I said, I'll call 911 for you.
We can't really help you since we're just kids."
Then he said quietly, not yelling this time,
I'll give you some candy if you help me.
You girls like candy, right?
We gave each other a frightened look
and we immediately started to run
to my apartment complex.
When we got to the front of the building, we can still see that he was
lying in the street at the end of the block. We looked back and I swear I get chills whenever I
remember this part. We saw him stand up perfectly fine, dust off his pants. He sneered harshly at us
He sneered harshly at us, and then walked away. No limp, no obvious pain, just walked away like nothing even happened.
I'll never forget his expression, like a wolf who almost caught two lambs for dinner.
In that exact moment, I knew we avoided some kind of horrible fate.
We high-tailed it into my building, ran as fast as our little legs would go up the stairs
and got into my apartment without any other incidents.
Nothing else really happened after that.
We did our homework, played games,
and then Sandy went home with her mom before dinner.
My parents were home by then.
But for some reason, I didn't tell them what happened.
I don't know why. Maybe I thought
I would get in trouble somehow or got distracted by something else and had forgotten about it.
But ever since that day, whenever I walked home from school, I was always scanning the area
for any new danger that might be lurking nearby. I never really stopped doing that
even as an adult. Call it a bit of a subconscious paranoia or anxiety, but I'm always looking
over my shoulders to see who's behind me, to prepare myself in case anyone is looking
to do harm to me or my loved ones. To the man who stole my sense of safety and clearly had bad intentions for two small girls.
To do God knows what.
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I started hanging out with the classmate and her family quite a bit. I'd bike over to their
place about two or three times a week to hang out, and we would take the same walking path,
located behind a well-known park and recreation center.
Quite a distance away from any nearby houses.
I wasn't allowed to ride along the main street since it didn't have a sidewalk at the time.
This path was always sparsely populated with people.
I'd occasionally ride by a few people walking their dogs or some teenagers goofing
off. But more times than not, especially in the early mornings or early afternoons, I
was alone. Which didn't bother me too much, and I honestly felt more comfortable with
no one around. This path had two bridges crossing over ditches, one located on the east and one located on the west.
Both bridges had large bushes surrounding them, and the east bridge had a tall hedge that spanned parallel along the entire ditch on one side.
On this particular day, I biked to my friend's house, as per usual, and it was fairly early in the morning around
8 or 9 a.m.
I noticed a man dressed in all black, standing still, ahead of me on the path.
I immediately steered to the far side and passed him without much incident.
But my gut instinct kicked in, and as I passed, I looked up to find him staring at me,
intensely.
As I continued forward, I stomped at the end of the East Bridge, and looked back to
find him coming towards me.
But, stomping as soon as I did, crept out, I booked it the rest of the way to my friend's house, without even looking
back.
After playing for several hours, around 1 p.m., I was told by their mother that I had to
head home.
Having forgotten about the man, and believing him gone by now, I rode back to the start of
the path, only to immediately
slam on my brakes.
Right there, pacing back and forth, casually on the East Bridge, is the man.
I remained frozen and stunned and disbelief as he suddenly caught sight of me and halted
his pacing.
I was slightly above him, given the path that the East End had a slight hill, so I was
looking down at him.
We stayed locked in a weird, staring contest, for about a minute before the instinct to run
hit me.
I turned around, fleeing back to safety at my friend's house.
I phoned my mother and asked her to pick me up explaining the situation.
Now, just for a bit of background, I came from a very abusive family,
so her complete disregard for my well-being and safety isn't an unusual occurrence.
She refused to pick me up, told me the man was probably
already gone, and if I didn't get home, there would be severe consequences.
I had also asked my friend's mother if she could drive me. She told me she couldn't because
they were already running late for a wedding that they had to attend. With a little choice, I rode back down the east end
of the path, and again came to a stop.
The man was nowhere to be seen, seemingly gone.
But my gut instinct, it knew better, telling me
that he was still there, hiding behind the tall edge
on the opposite side of the East
Bridge. My pulse was in my throat as I hesitated as long as I could, waiting for more people
to show up. But the path was empty, except me and the man now hidden. Something told
me to use the small hill to gain as much speed as possible so that I could
ride to the far left of the bridge where there wasn't a hedge as fast as I could.
I began pedaling.
Once I'm near the tail end of the bridge, I see from the corner of my eye the man lunge
at me from behind the hedge.
His hand reaching out to grab me, presumably my arm.
I felt the wind of his hand against my arm and the upper portion of my back as he somehow
narrowly missed me.
I continued with pure adrenaline until I neared the bridge on the west end and spotted
an adult couple
walking towards me, knowing that I had to be safe now since there were other people.
I used my brakes and quickly whipped around to see if the man was chasing me.
He wasn't. Instead, he was standing there. Still, in the middle path at the bridge,
there. Still, in the middle path at the bridge, watching me with that same dark intensity. But upon noticing the couple, he walked off the path altogether and
casually strolled along the hedge towards the main street as if you were merely
passing through. After he was a good distance away, I continued writing a home
but kept glancing around for him.
Thankfully, he didn't try to pursue me in any other way as far as I know.
My mother didn't bother to call the police when I told her stating I was probably making it up,
and I seemed just fine.
To this day, I'll never go near that bike path again.
To the man on the path go near that bike path again.
To the man on the path, let's not meet again.
And I hope no other helpless child or person ever meets you, either.
This happened in October of 2013.
My friends and I went on a road trip from a small town in western Oregon to San Francisco.
The trip itself was amazing.
We did everything, the redwoods, alcatraz, trolleys, we had an overall blast.
Of course, sometimes we would get on each
other's nerves. There were six of us in my friend Justin's parents van. Not ideal,
but fun for road trip nonetheless. The others included my friends, a married couple,
Nate and Bri, and my best friend Jess and her sister Chelsea. A lot of laughs and an awesome experience
overall, but of course it is slightly tainted by the last night we were in California.
We were leaving the city around 7 p.m., so it was already dark for the most part. We were trying
to make it as far north until we were too tired to keep going and finish up our trip to Oregon the day after.
Nate and Justin were constantly bickering.
They aren't particularly close anyway, and they have a lot of similarities, which kind
of gets in the way of their semi-friendship.
One of the only few downsides of the trip was them trying to one up each other constantly.
This particular night, Justin was driving and Nate was in the front passenger seat.
They were arguing on where to stop and how far to go, or what hotel to get, etc.
We were a little more than an hour outside of San Francisco, and Marie was getting frustrated
with their arguing.
So on her phone, she looked up the closest hotels. One in Santa Rosa popped up, the Vagamon Inn.
It looked decent from the photos, and it was inexpensive, always a win.
As girls were stoked to be able to rest for the night. When we pulled up to the hotel,
were stoked to be able to rest for the night. When we pulled up to the hotel, the hotel itself looked not quiet as nice as the photos had represented it. But we didn't mind.
We were young in our 20s. If there's a bed and a shower, we're sold. However, once we
pulled up, we noticed a cop inside getting a room for the night. Weird, but maybe not
weird for the area who knows. When you're tired from a road trip, you'll let a lot of things slide.
After we got in, there were only two rooms available. Weird, as the hotel didn't seem overly full.
The parking lot had maybe 10 vehicles in it, but for one night, it was fine.
So this meant Justin, Nate, and Bri were in one room while Jess, Chelsea, and I were
in the opposite on the third floor. The riggedy elevator right up opened on the second floor,
but no one was there. The doors closed. Someone mentioned how they hadn't seen a lot of people
for there being only two rooms left.
We just shrugged it off.
The third floor elevator door opened,
revealing a wall of marijuana smoke.
Not just the smell, it was a thick fog,
so thick that it was dimming the overhead lights.
Certainly something you don't expect, when you're in a hotel,
but then again, the hotel was turning out
to be subpar of anything.
Thankfully, our rooms didn't smell like weed,
other than old and dank.
As soon as I was in the room,
I realized I left my phone charger down in the van
and is definitely something that I wanted. A few seconds away from everyone sounded like a nice reprieve anyway.
Don't get me wrong, I love my friends, but when you're stuck with people 24-7 for several
days, you look for opportunities to have some time alone.
Once I retrieved the keys to the van from the room housing the other three, which they
were already finding disgusting things in their room and debating whether we should leave all together.
I was relishing the opportunity for a solitary walk.
As I walked down the smoke-filled hall toward the death trap elevator, there was a definite creeping sensation on the back of my neck, and inner voice telling me, forget it, and go back to the room. I ignored it, rushed it off. I mean, I was in a
well-lit area, a hotel nonetheless. What was there to beware of? I wish I had
listened to that nagging feeling. As I exited the bottom floor, I passed the front desk towards the front door,
and two men manning the front watched me intently, like a pair of lions assessing their prey.
It said something to each other in a language that I didn't recognize, but I ignored them
and kept walking. For context, I'm a tall girl, nearly 5'10", and I'm strong.
My dad also taught me self-defense moves all through my teen years, and I've always
been able to put off a don't mess with me vibe, which I've come to learn isn't going
to protect me from danger.
As soon as I'm through the hotel doors, the feeling of unease only grows.
I wish right then and there. I had turned back. The hotel was in an area of Santa Rosa that was more industrial than city.
A lot of businesses closed for the night surrounded the hotel, not much light or signs of life.
Save for a figure emerging from the darkness.
As I walked towards the van, throwing off my tough girl persona quite aggressively, this
man walks out of the darkness and seemed to just appear out of nowhere.
It was walking directly towards me.
I was literally in front of the hotel. There was no way he was going to keep walking towards me. I was literally in front of the hotel.
There was no way he was going to keep walking towards me.
So I ignored him, and I kept walking.
Thankfully, the van was not too far from the front doors.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the man whistling and bypassed the front doors
of the hotel and keep walking towards me. By this time, he was no
longer whistling, just silently stalking me. But still, he probably was just looking for
the sake of it. There was no way he was going to walk towards me, right? I realized right
then I left my phone in the room. It was probably too low on battery, thus the
charger. But I couldn't call for assistance even if I needed it. To be safe and quell
my inward unease, I locked the van, fast walked towards it, not to arouse any suspicion
and climbed into the back, promptly locking it. Safe in the dark back seat, I watched as the man stopped to watch me, and lean onto the wall
behind him.
He had been walking and watching me.
Usually, this wouldn't bother me, but considering where I was in the general bad vibes I was getting
from him, I listened to my intuition and put a barrier between us.
He was just staring at the van, clearly waiting for me to get out, and there was no way
in hell I was going to.
Then he starts talking to himself and laughing, pausing randomly as if he were hearing someone
else talking back.
Having a full-on conversation with an imaginary person,
my anxiety was only rising as I watched this display of crazy.
It was wearing a flannel shirt, a hoodie and a beanie.
His hands were stuffed into his hoodie pockets.
And suddenly, he pulls out a crack pipe and a lighter.
And I watched him light up and smoke for a few minutes.
Just a harmless drug user.
I felt myself relax.
He probably just wanted to talk or ask for money or even asked a party.
It would have been no to all three, but he didn't seem as dangerous as he laughed and
smoked by himself.
I, of course, was only fooling myself. He set his pipe down,
and I watched, with complete horror, as he pulls out a revolver from the back pocket of his pants,
and propped it open to insert a couple of bullets. I couldn't believe what I was saying with my own eyes. It was straight
out of a movie. He shot a look back at the van. Thankfully, I was still hidden in the shadows,
but his once laughing self was gone. Now all I saw was a menacing face. I felt my blood run cold, my heart dropped. I could die at a night.
I cursed myself for coming out to the van without my phone. But then again,
I wouldn't want my friends to come help me and risk them getting hurt. At least they could call
the cops. I stayed still and barely breathed. I was hoping that maybe he was high enough
that he would forget I was here. Also, I kept thinking, where is everyone? This is a hotel
shouldn't there be someone, anyone driving or walking by? It was probably only 9pm at
this point, which isn't terribly late, but alas, I was alone. I watched as he
walked towards the van, his gun now hidden in the hoody pocket. I slumped down in his seat,
and turned on my side, pulling my legs inward to my chest, trying to make myself as small
as possible. I watched as he would cup his hands around his face and try to look in,
peering at the back seat. I didn't dare make a sound. Relieved that the van was dark inside,
I don't think he could make out my figure. Or if he did, he didn't let on. He walked around the van and tried pulling the doors open.
He looked into each window. At one point, he was digging around and the bed of a truck parked beside the van,
possibly looking for something to break the window open. I don't know.
I felt like at least an hour had gone by, but it was probably only 15 minutes.
I wished for my friends
to come down, looking for me, but I didn't want them to be in harm's way. Either way,
I was really wishing I was safe up in the room with my friends regardless of how stinky
and dirty the room was. After several minutes of hearing nothing and not seeing him patrol the van. I dared to sit up, slowly, and take a look
around. He was nowhere to be seen. I felt uneasy as if he could be watching and waiting for me,
but I also felt like now was my chance. I opened the passenger door, slipped out, still knowing around, a shut it gently and carefully. And as soon as
the door shut, the van honked. A safety feature on a lot of vehicles letting you know that
it's still locked, which I completely forgot about. And my panic state, I didn't dare looking
around to see if anyone heard. I set off in a full sprint away from the van and to the
front of the hotel, heading towards the back.
I glanced around me once or twice and I swore I heard someone, but saw nothing.
Still in panic mode, I didn't stop.
It suddenly dawned on me.
There was a cop car somewhere.
There was a cop staying here.
I scanned the parking lot for his car, thinking if I was near a cop car somewhere. There was a cop staying here. I scanned the parking lot for
his car, thinking if I was near a police car, it would scare the guy, if he were still following me.
But the car was nowhere to be found. I rounded the corner and ran up the opposite side of the hotel,
then made it to the front of the hotel without running into him. I sprinted through the lobby
and passed the sketchy dudes up front,
then scrambled to the elevator, pressing my finger over and over on the third floor button.
Before long I was pounding on my room door and Jess answered immediately, where have
you been? We were just about to go out looking for you. I broke out into gasping sobs as
I told my story. Jess immediately marched over to the other room.
She told them what happened.
They were more than ready to leave.
We packed up in record time and thankfully Justin found no one outside on his way to the
van.
Meanwhile Nate and Chelsea checked out of their respective rooms and a pair of sex workers
and pimps strolled in asking for some rooms by the hour. Apparently the entire first and
possibly second floor were for by the hour and not the night. The weird front desk
guys demanded that we stay and that they wouldn't refund us. They were being so
sketchy and strange not wanting us to leave. Definitely red flags. But we left anyway.
Refund or not. I had never been so thankful to leave a hotel.
Before long, we were on our way to Petaluma to stay at a five-star hotel because who cares about
the price while I called the police. They were very appreciative of a call and thanked me for doing so.
I told them in my crying breathless voice that a cop had been there, but was gone,
and the dispatch person informed me that asking for a room for the night is code for asking the hotel
if there had been trouble in the area. That should have been our first clue, not to stay.
That should have been our first clue, not to stay. I have no idea what ever happened to hoodie wearing crack-smoking, gun-wielding laughing
guy, but he gave me nightmares for months and added to my already anxious mind, taking
away some of my sense of security for the rest of my life.
I now know to completely trust my intuition.
It's never wrong.
If you're ever in a situation where alarms are going off in your head, always listen.
And creepy Santa Rosa guy, I hope we never meet again. If you're looking to get your hands on ad-free versions of these weekly episodes, as well
as weekly bonus episodes, head over to patreon.com, forward slash let's not meet podcasts
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And these stories and these bonus episodes are much more dangerous, thrilling, and sometimes
more disturbing than your average Let's Not Meet Story.
So it's definitely not for the faint of heart, but this podcast is not possible without
all of the wonderful supporters over at patreon.com, forward slash Let let's not eat podcast, or follow that link in the show notes.
Thank you so much for listening to this week's episode. This week you have heard
creepy coffee guy and my savior dog by M.
Stranger Danger by Jennifer H.
The man on the path by Dean Cole.
And finally, Hotel Hell by Drew Ashley.
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 as not associated with Reddit or any of the message
boards online.
As always, if you have a story you want to share, send it over to Let's Not Meet Stories
at gmail.com.
I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. Stay safe. 18T fiber presents a straightforward moment.
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