Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 7x17: Tyler - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: December 20, 2021Stories in this episode: -My Southwestern Summer - Ellie (0:39). -Public Transit Creep - Anonymous (10:02). -Tyler - Anonymous (19:27). -The Woman - Olivia (32:54). -The Boys Who Chased Me With A Kn...ife - Sierra (37:41). -Jeff - Ryan (42:47). Extended Patreon Content: -Haunted House Harassment - Madeline. -Creepy PE Teacher - River. -Untitled - Erin. -Unwanted Visitor - Anonymous. -Human Trafficking Story - Anonymous. 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 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! Get fresh, pre-measured ingredients and mouthwatering seasonal recipes delivered right to your door! Go to HelloFresh.com/lnm14 and use code lnm14 for up to 14 free meals, plus free shipping! Grab your Holiday Season Deal by going to NordVPN.com/lnm or use code lnm to get up to 73% off your NordVPN plan + a bonus gift. Start feeling better with Feals CBD! Become a member today by going to Feals.com/meet and you'll get 50% off your first order with free shipping. Take advantage of SimpliSafe’s Holiday deals and get 40% off your new home security system by visiting SimpliSafe.com/lnm.Â
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My name is Andrew Tate and this is season seven episode 17 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror
Podcast. This story happened the first COVID summer of 2020 when I was working as a door-to-door salesman
for reasons I can't really explain.
At the time that this happened, I was working in a pretty low-income suburb of Oklahoma City. On a day-to-day basis, the job was already
pretty miserable, as the expectations were to work minimum 13-hour days, six days a week
on commission. So, if you weren't much of a salesman, you weren't making much. I realized
this actually was a pyramid scheme, but that's a story for
another time. I usually got one to three sales per day on a good day. I'm naturally stressed
about money. This particular morning, I was breaking new territory and starting on foot in a new neighborhood at about 8 a.m. Usually mornings were pretty
slow as people are still asleep and have already left for work. So I was going along, knocking,
when I was surprised that one man actually answered the door. I introduced myself and started the spiel, and he seemed pretty receptive, so
we ended up talking, and it seemed that he was interested in buying. This was great for me,
as it was so early in the day, and it gave me a bit of an ego boost. The nature of my sales pitch
script included some questions about the customer's lives, and we were advised
to get to know the people a bit, so this guy and I got sidetracked talking about life,
when he invited me inside to see his motorcycles. We ended up chatting for a while,
and I complained about my job to him, so he bought some products for his son.
The conversation up to this point had been comfortable, and even though I knew it was
naive to go inside the house alone with this man, I never really felt like I was in danger.
After the cell, I went back outside and he followed me out. At this point he says he really wants to help me.
Just wait right there," he said.
He ducked back in the house.
He came out and handed me a roll of 20s.
I told him I couldn't possibly accept it, but he said that this was his good deed and
he wanted to be able to help a younger person in need.
I just instinctively went in for a hug which in hindsight, I know I crossed the line when I did.
He immediately held me far too close, and then his hands wandered down to grab my butt,
and then grazed my chest when I pulled away. He told me how beautiful I was, but I excused myself pretty quickly, as things had obviously gone way too far. I drove a ways up and around the corner
out of sight I stopped again to count the money. He had given me $200. As a broke college
kid, this made a huge difference for me.
However, I was so put off and triggered by this interaction, I didn't work for the rest
of the day.
Later that day I got the first text message, and turnally kicking myself for even sharing
it with this creep.
It read something along the lines of how nice it was to meet me, and again how
beautiful he thought that I was. Despite the groping, this guy gave me a lot of money, so I decided
to respond, but only to mention the business aspect and told him I hoped his son enjoyed
the gift. He continued to send me messages throughout the day about wanting to see me again,
He continued to send me messages throughout the day about wanting to see me again, to which I said I could only go back if he wanted to place another order.
He played this off as a joke, and I just stopped responding, as I didn't see any benefit.
The next day I went out to a different area, and was having bad luck with zero sales.
Near the end of the day, I saw that I had more messages from the guy, and was having bad luck with zero sales. Near the end of the day, I saw that I had more messages from the guy and was feeling
bold, so again, I said that I would come over if he bought more.
Surprisingly he did agree, so against my better judgment.
I went over to this guy's place again at about 9.30 pm, but this time I made a point to stay outside while he filled
his order form out.
He ended up gifting me another $200 in cash.
I voided all physical contact and personal nature of conversation.
Then got out of there as quickly and politely as I could despite the continuous flirting
and compliments. I mean, I was only there so that I didn't have to report zero sales for the day.
As soon as I left, he texted me again about how attractive he found me, and this time,
he said how much he wanted me sexually. I did not respond and informed my direct supervisor who was also an abusive
asshole. So I had no support. I decided to leave it alone and just ignore him. The next
day, I didn't check my phone while I was working, and at the end of the day, I had a whole
slew of texts from this creep, outlining in graphic detail the sexual things that he
wanted to do with me. I obviously refused to respond again. Things went on like this
for several days, with increasing detail from him that I'll spare you as not to disturb
you, but yes, it was that disgusting. When he realized this wasn't getting my attention, he tried to call me at first once or twice,
and then several times a day.
I still don't know why I didn't block him, probably because my business did personal
deliveries, and I thought I might have to see him again later on.
Then one day he sent me a message saying that his father was in the hospital, and he needed
all of the money that he had given me back so that he could visit him before he died.
I decided to text back this time and inform him that I would not be returning the money
as it was a gift.
He sent me a lot of angry messages, calling me a selfish bitch, and saying that I was keeping
him from his dying father, which I didn't believe, but then he said something that really
scared me.
He threatened that he was in a motorcycle gang, and that he was going to hunt me down, and
cut my throat when he found me. He knew my car, and he knew my
personal information. In hindsight, this was probably all an elaborate
ruse to get my attention, but for the rest of the summer, every time I heard a motorcycle,
a shiver went down my spine, and I constantly look over my shoulder. So to the creepy
guy that groped to a rast and threatened to stalk and murder me, let's not meet.
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This happened 15 years ago.
I was 17 years old.
I live in a large city
where you get used to a lot of different types of characters
and strange encounters.
I unfortunately had no shortage of weird encounters
and getting approached by strangers
wasn't anything new to me,
but I was still pretty
shy and avoided all conflict.
At the time, I didn't have access to a car, so I had to take public transit to get everywhere.
As I'm sure most people are aware, there are particularly a lot of weirdos on public transit.
My boyfriend at the time was a year older than me,
and we had moved out and found an apartment in the downtown area, so I had to take the bus
for 50 minutes to go visit him. One evening, I had made plans with my boyfriend to meet up
near the city center to go to dinner and a movie. I got on the bus at the transit center
where it began its entire bus route. I went to the back of the bus where the benches had two seats.
I sat on the inner seat and put my bag on the outer seat. I put my headphones in and looked out
the window while waiting for the bus to start moving.
Before leaving the transit center, an old man got on the bus.
He walked straight over to me and sat on top of my bag beside me.
He yelled over my headphones.
Hey beautiful lady!
I was immediately on edge as the bus was not even a quarter of the way full, and this man
sat next to me, instead of any other vacant seat.
He even sat on top of my bag.
I made a motion to indicate that I was wearing headphones, and I did not want to talk.
I motioned that I needed my bag from underneath where he was sitting.
This unfortunately did not deter him. He again shouted, hello beautiful lady.
I felt trapped as he was seated beside me so I couldn't get out into the aisle to move seats
without getting past him. I was feeling very anxious and definitely
skewed. The bus started moving. After two attempts to speak over my headphones,
had failed, he pinched the skin on the top of my hand to get my attention. I was
immediately alarmed and ripped my headphones out of my ears and asked him what
he wanted.
He began talking to me casually as if there were nothing weird about the interaction.
He told me how beautiful I was, asked me how my day was, and began talking about his life,
mentioning his religious affiliations, showing me a gold pendant that he was wearing, and
otherwise not shutting up
despite me trying desperately to ignore him. He was easily 40 years older than me. Had
a strong accent, it was behaving rather strangely, as a 17-year-old, with very little life experience
I was terrified. As the bus drove along and slowly started filling up, I noticed everyone staring at him and
me because he was so loud and erratic.
At one point, I tried putting my headphones back in, and he pulled the cord so the earbud
popped out of my ear and continued speaking.
At one point without warning, he grabbed my head with both hands and kissed
my cheek with great force. I wanted to cry. I was scared. I didn't know what to do, so I started
making intense eye contact with anyone who I caught staring at me. After a grueling 25 minutes of
fear, a woman in her early 20s called out to me with
a random name and said, I didn't see you before. Come sit next to me, we have so much to catch
up on. I looked at the man, and I asked him to move out of my way so that I could sit with
my friend and grab to my bag hastily. When I sat next to the woman, I started to sob. I told her that I was scared.
She said she was sorry that she didn't intervene sooner.
The man continued to speak loudly to anyone around him and stared at me through the bus
ride. I pulled out my clunky flip phone to call my boyfriend and tell him what was happening on the bus, and that I was feeling very scared.
He understood immediately and told me that he would meet me at the bus stop and advised
me to fake getting off at the stop before to see what would happen and play a little
game of chicken if it came down to it.
At the bus stop before my regular stop, I rang the bell and approached the front door
of the bus.
I noticed the creepy old man rose and went to the back door still watching me very closely.
When the bus stopped, I took a step off of the bus, and I saw the man also exit.
I jumped back onto the bus as the door closed.
The bus drove away and I felt this huge sigh of relief. I have no doubt that that man
intended to follow me and do God knows what. I was able to meet my boyfriend at the next
stop. I cried pretty hard and ended up taking a cab ride home that night. I still took the bus regularly after that for about a year, but I wouldn't take the bus
after dark, and only set on the outside seats so no one could sit beside me if the bus
wasn't crowded.
Or I would stand if I had to.
A few months after that scary incident I was riding the bus along the same route.
When the bus driver announced that they had to make a stop outside the city center to pick
up passengers from a bus that was no longer in service, and that everyone needed to make
room.
As the bus pulled up to the crowd waiting, I noticed there were several police cars surrounding the bus, and the same creepy old man was bent over
the hood of a police cruiser being handcuffed. I'll never know why, but I was grateful that he was
in custody. As I've gotten older, I pay close attention not to only my surroundings,
Close attention, not to only my surroundings, but also to young girls in public to ensure that they are safe. I found myself intervening when someone is being creepy to them, by pretending to know them
and calling them over to me, the way that that bus angel did for me so many years before.
If you see someone looking scared or uncomfortable, please intervene, because you
could potentially save a life. And to the creepy old man on the bus who harassed 18, you
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I've been listening to the podcast for the last couple of months, which I find a great
way to spend my time while doing other activities, as well as listening to other stories and
learning how to notice danger.
So I want to thank you for sharing these stories.
It means a lot, however, listening to all of these stories about creeps and strange people. I couldn't help but be reminded
of someone that I met in high school that I would say was a strange person to say the least.
I live in a small town around 20,000 in New Zealand. It's probably about three hours or so from the city in either direction.
And it's a farming community thanks to all of the dairy farms around the area and regions
that practice farming.
They've done this for over a hundred years.
Despite this, both the country and town teens catch the buses and go to either one of three high schools
in town.
Two are single sex schools, one male, one female.
With the third high school, a Catholic co-ed school.
This story took place at the co-ed school, which I ended up attending for two years until
I moved to an all-girls High, which I'm currently attending.
I'm 16 now and female for context. This story took place just a year between the ages of 14 and 15.
After spending about a year or so at the CoEd school, I was already sick of it. My friends and
myself at the time were what you would
call in a stereotypical Hollywood movie The Rejects, and we often stuck together because we had no
where else to go, or anyone to talk to because of our already gained reputation. It also meant that
a number of the kids who were lonely at the time would come to us for comfort until they got back on their feet and found new friends.
None of us minded this because we were at least grateful that we were meeting new people.
However, there was this one boy that came to sit down with us for a while.
I'll name them Tyler.
Tyler seemed like your average socially awkward kid at first.
He had short blonde hair and blue eyes, and strange enough was quite strong for 15, because
he took part in the local army training group for teens who were interested in joining the
army.
We were welcoming to him when he first joined us because he seemed like he was just an ordinary
kid who needed some help landing back on his feet and we were happy to give him that
sort of help and support.
Looking back, I can now tell that I was incredibly stupid for doing so, but young hormonal me,
whom had never really flirted with guys before, would flirt with him
occasionally.
I can't even remember why exactly I did this.
I think it was just because I was a bit bored at the time.
It's crappy of me I know.
But I've since learned from this experience and have reflected on it greatly. Young hormonal hymn seemed to take my flirting as a sign of interest
and began talking to me more and more.
During this period, he began to tell us more about himself.
He said that he and his family were from South Africa
with their ancestors moving down hundreds of years ago to Africa, but his family suddenly
immigrated to New Zealand a few years ago.
I always asked him about South Africa, and he would always tell me about the bush and
the weather that they used to experience, and how much he missed it.
Just normal stuff.
Of course, I was sympathetic, because of course, who wouldn't
miss the country that they grew up in.
However, the closer he got, the longer he stayed, and the more confident he became. He started
telling us more and more stuff that slowly progressed and red flags.
Once we were all sitting outside of a classroom during lunch.
As we were talking, I noticed a little spider crawling on the ground between my feet.
I personally don't mind spiders as long as they weren't as big as baseballs, and as I
was slowly watching this little guy skitter across the ground.
Tyler raised his foot and stomped on it. I looked at him,
and I swear to God, he seemed to take pleasure in my horror because he was smiling.
I looked at him and said, what the hell? Dude, why did you do that?
He just looked at me and the spiders squished body and said without wencing or anything because
it was happy.
At this point I was confused at his comment, I jokingly said, what so you take pleasure
in hurting other animals?
Tyler stared at me still smiling.
And he told me in graphic detail some of the things he liked to do when he went hunting
with his dad, but I'll spare you the details.
Something flashed past his eyes as he said this, still smiling, and not a cheeky schoolboy
smile, mind you.
Some psychotic one. And the look in his eyes told me that he wasn't
kidding around. All of my friends completely laughed at off saying that he was
just kidding around and not taking it seriously, whilst I sat there trying to
comprehend the moment. Another time Tyler sat down with us during another lunch
time period, and he must have been
pissed about something because he began to spit off angry remarks about school, saying
frightening things about how he was going to shoot up the school and kill everyone in
sight.
Again, my friend started joking around, and one said, oh yeah, you got a plan?
Well, he smiled.
He began pouring into details about how he would take a gun from his dad's cabinet
and sneak into the school, and there he would take specific routes and kill as many people
as he could.
And if that wasn't sickening enough, he started with names, names of certain people who
have wronged him and how they would pay.
My friends were shocked. He was dead serious. We could tell just from the energy
that he was putting off. It's not like shootings are common in New Zealand.
So there was no way that he would be joking.
Once the bell rang and he went into class my friends and I were pretty spooked
We were all looking collectively at one another like
What the hell was that and what the hell do we do?
I told them that I would go to a trusted teacher and report his behavior
And I begged them not to tell him it was me
They promised and I did just as I told them. I found a teacher, in private, and confided in him, asking to stay anonymous, and he agreed, saying that he would
speak to him and thank me. I didn't think anything would arise out of the situation.
There was absolutely no way he would have known it was me, right? Well, I shared music class with him a couple of
times a week, and over the last couple of days, I'd been trying to avoid him, thanks to
all of the red flags and his outburst. However, as I entered the classroom and looked
over to my desk, he had shifted. He shifted desks right over the classroom from his original spot so that his seat was
right next to mine.
What's worse is that he was sitting in that goddamn seat and staring at me with this
stone-cold look?
What the fuck, I thought?
As I gradually began to sit down next to him, he continued to stare at me throughout the
lesson.
He tried to start conversations with me once or twice asking why I was ignoring him and
if something was wrong.
I looked into his eyes and by just his face I could tell that he already knew.
And for the first time in my life I felt truly terrified to be in a room with someone else.
I didn't know what to do. He could potentially hurt me if I made a wrong move or said the wrong
thing. So all I did was play along, saying that nothing was wrong and I was just busy with schoolwork.
He seemed happy with this answer and we continued hanging out. Nothing came of the situation but
I regretted every single day that I hung out with him
after that. I felt like pure evil was mumbling up inside of him every moment. Something that
only I seemed to see within him. But I couldn't do anything. I was never really great at speaking
my mind and saying no to people, so I remained friends with him for a number of weeks.
Over time his grants would grow worse and worse within our circle of friends.
He would cover a range of topics from saying he hated people of color because they were
all cheats and criminals, to how women were always the same and should be put in their
place.
He continued to spe dispute homophobic race
as bigoted language towards us thinking that we would reprobate the same stuff that he
thought. We did not. By this point we were sick of him and his
rants. He heard us greatly because most of us were people of color and part of the LGBT community.
My feminist queer ass was sick of his shit, and over a couple of days, we completely ignored
him.
He didn't fight back, he instead let us be to find new friends.
Almost a year later, I'm in a different school, and I finally found a great circle of friends
who support each other, and don't take others' bullshit.
I've completely cut off Tyler since last year, but I still wonder where is he now?
I've tried looking to see if he has any social media accounts, but nothing's ever popped
up.
I've asked some friends that I still keep in contact with from my old school whether
are not, he's still an ass, and I've been told that he I still keep in contact with from my old school, whether or not he's still an ass.
And I've been told that he and his family packed up their stuff and moved all the way
back to South Africa.
No explanation or anything.
He was just at school one day and then gone to next.
And thank God for that.
I hope that people aren't dragged into whatever is bubbling up within him, and that he never
has to scare or hurt anyone else again like the way he scared me and my friends.
So to the kid who took pleasure in hurting animals and threatened to shoot up our school,
let's not meet ever. ¿Ten? No sé, ¿qué te lo entiendo? ¿Estás un guillanero? SÃ, tengo 18T Fiber. El rato de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión de la presión Todo de buena fiesta comienza con un buen outfit y tu próxima cita es con Jay Cipeni, en
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JCPenny. So, at about 1 a.m. on a weeknight, I was surprised when I heard a car start in the driveway.
I thought perhaps one of my family members was moving the car around to make their morning
a little easier to get out of the driveway.
A couple of seconds go by.
When I hear my usually calm uncle screaming at the top of his lungs. Someone is stealing the fucking car.
I rushed down the stairs to see my brand new car being whipped around our backyard through
the grass and rocks down a steep slope of our front yard and over a small stream into
the street.
The whole thing happened so fast no one really knew how to react. My
uncle tried to follow the person stealing the car but they got away too fast. My aunt
and I clumsily called 911 and the town police showed up very quickly. They found my car
parked at the top of the street. When they asked the woman who stole the car to get out, she tried to run.
But the car got stuck between drive and reverse. No one understands what happened, but are thankful
that it did. Anyway, they had to break the passenger side window and pull her out through it.
When they got her out, they found many strange items on her, some of which,
being a collection of these bejeweled daggers. They also found out that in order to find my
keys, she was searching through my uncles and dad's cars. While she was there, she also
grabbed my dad's car registration, a styrofoam cup, and some
Christmas clothes that he had gotten as presents.
Apparently, she pulled off into some wooded area, took off all of her clothes, and put
on his Christmas clothes.
The whole situation was very freaky.
The next morning she was released from the town police station,
and while they were processing her, she put her shoes on the wrong feet and tried to flee the station.
The woman was clearly disturbed. We thought that we did the right thing by not pressing charges,
with the hopes that she might be able to find help. Little did we know, she had done this to someone else just the week before.
Her raid on our neighborhood was far from over. A week or so later I was babysitting for our
neighbor who lived up the street and told them about the whole situation. They were also very clearly stunned that something like that had happened in our neighborhood,
so they asked for her name. When I said it, their face has got very serious. They said that they
heard just last week one of their friends who also lives on our road had an incident the week before.
She had tucked her child into bed and went about her
night. A short while later, she heard him yelling,
Mommy, Mommy something is scratching in my closet. Knowing how little kids have overreactive
minds, at night, she told him it's probably just some critter crawling through the walls or on the roof.
He yelled, no mommy, it's not.
Now this must have freaked her out because she went into the closet to find the same woman
who took the car.
She was sitting in the little boy's closet with her bejeweled dagger, scratching at his
closet door.
Being a psych nurse, she could handle this, and she didn't call the cops, instead she
took the woman to the police station herself. A hell of a ride that must have been.
The weirdest part of this whole story is that she lives in an apartment complex that's
through the woods at the end of my cold assack.
She could easily walk to my house at any point.
She could be disguised in the thick woods that surround my backyard watching, waiting
for the car to be conveniently unlocked again.
But creepy carjacking, closet hiding woman, let's never meet again.
For some background, at the time I had just moved from Alaska to Vancouver, Washington.
I was around 5 or 6.
It was just me and my mom, as my dad had left for California that year. My parents were separated.
So, with my mom just becoming a single mother, we chose to leave Alaska and move in with her
friend and another family who was also a single mother family. They had a teen daughter and a preteen son.
We had moved into a somewhat renovated house. It was four and a half bedrooms, three bedrooms
upstairs, and this weird connected bedroom that had a door in between downstairs. I believe
due to trauma, I kind of blocked a lot of this out.
My mom, her friend and the other mom, had left the house.
I was in my room alone, when the boy, whom I would say was anywhere from 11 to 13, came
into my room.
Being a child, casually I asked this kid that I barely knew because we never really interacted
beforehand.
Do you want to play with me?"
The boy said yes, then pulled something out of his pocket.
It was a knife.
No, thank God for fighter flight instincts, because my body said no, it's time to run.
Little old me jumped onto the bed and scurried into the far corner.
As he was staring at me, assessing how close he could get to me.
I came up with an escape plan.
When he went to grab me, I jumped down and ran towards the door separating mine and my
mom's room.
I closed it, then ran out towards the living room. He followed chasing me.
I then ran upstairs to the teen daughter's room. She was supposed to be watching me.
I was crying and telling her what happened. She ran downstairs now realizing how terrified I was.
She went to talk to her brother, but they began fighting and throwing things.
He ran out of the house.
While this was happening, I was hiding on the second step of the stairs, still able to
see into the kitchen, but well hidden behind a wall.
She called our moms and the friend.
My mom came home to stay with me while the other two went to look for the boy.
After that, we moved out a couple of days later, with another family who had their own problems,
but nothing like that.
I asked my mom multiple times about that incident, but she always told me that he was joking.
I'm 19, and I still don't believe that he was joking.
I think he just had some issues and really hated me.
Maybe he was attempting to take out his anger on me.
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concepts.com. So I am from the central Florida area. I grew up maybe 10, 15
minutes away from Disney. And a lot of people are like, I'd love to live there.
It'd be wonderful. It's kind of overrated, to be honest with you.
But anyways, because of that, we get a lot of people that just
are from all over the place, all out of state, you know,
from different countries, just everything, which is usually great.
It's nice to grow up and see different cultures and, you know,
everything like that.
This would have been when I was about 15, 14 years old and I'm 33 now, so almost 20 years ago.
And it was maybe a week before Christmas, a week of Christmas.
And I remember that pretty clearly because of the contents, but so anyways my father, who
was an avid motorcycle rider at the time, decided to sell his motorcycle and instead of putting
it on cycle trader or something like that, he put it at the end of the driveway with a
big sign on it at the center of the sale.
Well at the time, so I must have been 16 I guess because at
the time I drove home alone and I was at home playing video games. I think I've
played an MMO called Star Wars Galaxy at the time and I was obsessed with it.
This was right around the time that World of Warcraft came out and I was still
kind of bouncing between the two of them. Anyways, that kind of leads into this.
Basically, I was so incredibly busy playing that I didn't see somebody drive down our driveway.
It was a very long driveway.
It was, I don't know, maybe 100 foot, if not more.
It's very long and winding.
This was back before Ring Doorbells or any of that stuff so our doorbell rings and I
looked through and there's a guy much bigger than me maybe six to three hundred pounds kind of
chubby but stocky standing that door and I can see through because when I come down stairs
there's a big window of top and I can see him
and then when I got up to the door there's glass there and I was like oh well oh
shit, who's this guy? So I kind of cracked the door open, it was up from Florida
and I'm like not super trustworthy of people but I cracked the door open and I'm
like how can I help you? He's again here for the motorcycle for sale and I'm like, how can I help you? He's like, yeah, I'm here for the motorcycle for sale. And I'm like, go.
You know, my dad, which in retrospect,
I shouldn't have done it, but I was like,
go, my dad should be home any minute now.
Well, my dad, and I had gone to breakfast,
and my dad had gone to Home Depot
to get boards or something for some project
he's always working on.
And I was like, yeah, I'll just go home it's fine
well I didn't know when my dad was gonna be home. I'm like oh my dad will be home shortly
and the guy's like well I really got to use a bathroom can I use your bathroom and I was like uh
nah you not right now okay use it sorry you know kind of like that awkward teenage thing where
you're trying to tell him like fuck off and he's like, well, I really got to use a bathroom and he just pushes the door open and walks in and starts looking around
And he's like, where's your bathroom? At that point, I'm like, what do I do? I'm like half this guy's size
And I'm like, you know, it's over here. So I
Kind of lead him around
Longway hoping that I'll kill time and my dad will magically show up
And I show them to the bathroom. It's a little powder bathroom. There's no shower no tub or anything like that
And he goes in there
And I'm like what the fuck do I do?
So I start trying to call my dad and this is when cell phones are not iPhones and all this crazy shit so I can't really text. I just start spam calling.
When my parents have a habit of never answering the phone ever. So I call my dad
like 20 times nothing. He's probably eating a hot dog outside of Home Depot or
something and I'm like, fuck do I do? So I start listening. This guy's in the bathroom
and he's making a shit
I don't know why he's and I just hear him going like fuck fuck fuck fuck like muttering like these kind of violent words underneath his breath and
He finally comes out and he starts just walking around my house and I'm like, you know, so what's your name?
You know, what are you doing? He's like, oh, I'm really interested
in this motorcycle down there.
You know, my name's Jeff, Jeff Silva,
which come to find out was obviously a fake name,
but wrong.
So he keeps walking around looking at shit.
And I'm sitting here thinking, what the fuck do I do?
So he goes back in the bathroom again.
And I hear'm doing something.
I'm not sure what he's doing.
So at this point, I'm like preparing.
And I go out and like our garage doors right there in front of that bathroom.
So I sneak out and grab this fucking steel bar.
And I'm getting ready to cave this guy's head in or die trying
because I don't know what the fuck to do at this point he won't leave.
And he's not been like how will he leave violent towards me or
shown any malicious intent, but there's just something about him.
And I can still see him to this day almost 20 years later what he looked like.
And finally I hear him getting prepared to leave the bathroom so I set the metal
bat down and it's not a bat, it's like a metal stick or something.
I set it down and he walks out of the bathroom.
And he just makes his way back to the front door.
And I'm like, this is really fucking weird.
And he's just standing there by the front door and all of a sudden I see my dad's truck turned down the
driveway and I'm like, oh, there's my dad, I open the door.
And the guy like, scurries out.
And I fucking lock the door real quick
I can go back to the bathroom and there's like no toilet paper in there anymore. There's no
towel
And I'm like what the fuck so my dad
My dad like intercepts him in the driveway and my dad must have known something was weird with him because he saw him walking out of our house
so my dad was sitting there talking to him
and I run upstairs and look out the,
there's like a window that overlooks our driveway.
I run and look at it.
And he opens up the hatch of his,
he's like a hatchback Volvo or Subaru or something.
He opens it up and he's showing my dad stuff.
And my dad's like, no, no, no,
I can kind of see him motioning that. And my dad's like, no, no, no, I can kind of see emotion in that.
And my dad's like pointing at the end of the road.
Like, let's go look at the motorcycle.
Let's go look at the motorcycle.
So they drive down there and the guy looks at it for like one
minute.
He's like, oh, can I ride it?
Can I ride it?
My dad's like, no, no.
And the guy finally gets aggressive and leaves.
So my dad can decide he's like, call, called cops and I'm like what happened?
Well, turns out when the guy opened up his hatch, he had like hundreds of unwrapped gifts,
like the gifts that had been under a tree somewhere ripped open.
He had like several bottles of champagne that still had like moisture on him for being cold.
He had like a basket of like puppies and there was a shotgun
leaning like right there against the glass. And we called the cops and it turned and that gave him the name. I was a guest. His name was Jeff Silva. You know, he was 62, 300 pounds, black hair.
Kind of sounded like he was from the north.
And it turns out that that obviously wasn't him,
because they gave him the tag, and the tag went
to a stolen vehicle.
And there were a ton of break ins that day.
And actually the proceeding week of people getting
their Christmas gift stolen.
And what he would do is the guy that was doing it
to other people's houses, they didn't know if it was
the same guy, what he would do is the guy that was doing it to other people's houses, they didn't know if it was the same guy, what he would do is like go to the bathroom and take stuff
and shove it in the back of the toilet to cause it to flood.
And while it was flooding, he would go get his shotgun and basically rob the homeowner
as a gunpoint.
And we looked in the back of our toilet and all those towels and toilet paper and everything
were just jammed in the back there.
But yeah, that is how I almost got home invaded. Actually I did get home invaded so
to Jeff Silva if you're out there let's not meet again if we do. Fuck you. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast
and don't forget your weekly dose of the true paranormal on a brand new episode of my other podcast
odd trails. Release every week alongside this show. Check it out at oddtrails.com or wherever you get
your podcasts today. And don't miss next week's episode of Let's Not Meet. We will be doing a
special holiday edition of the Lost Stories. Thank you for listening to this week's episode this week you have heard.
My Southwestern Summer Internship by Ellie. Public Transit creep by a listener that asked to remain
anonymous. My high school friend threatened to shoot up our school by an anonymous listener,
the woman by Olivia, the boy who chased me with a knife by Sierra
And finally, a voice message sent in by Ryan
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
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support the show today. I'll see you all next week. Stay safe! music When I was a senior in high school, I was obsessed with all things horror.