Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 9x10: The Ice Cream Shop - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: October 10, 2022Stories in this episode: - On the Way Out of Las Vegas, by Megan (0:53) - You Never REALLY know somebody, by anon (11:19) - The Ice Cream Shop, by anon (18:02) - Apparently I'm a Con-Man Magnet, ...by Thesaurus Addict (21:38) - Give Me The Keys, by Whickley (27:18) - Creepy Sports Betting Larry, by Strickly Kay (35:15) - Don't Go Alone, by anon (39:56) - The Big Tall Museum Man, by Jordyn (45:00) Extended Patreon content: - Ex-Priest in the Complex, by Mars -The Nike Store, by HW - Never Smoking Weed Again, by anon - They Tried to Break Into my House Twice, by Avienda - Stoplight Guy, Sylvia Follow me at twitch.tv/crypticcounty and join us for the Live Let's Not Meet Halloween Special at 7:00 PM PT on October 27th! 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 extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Don't forget to check out this week's episode of my other podcast Odd Trails for your true paranormal fix as well as the first episode of my new podcast the Old Time Radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com. Stop wasting time going to the Post office and go to Stamps.com instead. There’s NO risk. And with my promo code, MEET, you get a special offer that includes a 4-week trial PLUS free postage and a digital scale. No long-term commitments or contracts. Just go to Stamps.com, click on the Microphone at the TOP of the homepage and type in MEET today! Make the switch to PrettyLitter TODAY! Get 20% off your first order by visiting Prettylitter.com and use promo code MEET. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty
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Wake up your taste buds with Java Jolt, the newest pint-sized flavor from Bluebell.
This delicious coffee ice cream blends dark chocolate flavored chunks and a coffee-fudge
swirl.
It's the Jolt you need to make it through your day.
So skip the coffee and grab a pint of Bluebell Java Jolt.
Look for Bluebell ice cream at your favorite grocer if you can't find it, ask for it.
This podcast contains adult language and content. 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 9 episode 10 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror podcast. show. I've been binging the podcast for a couple of months and always thought, I'm so grateful
I've never had an experience like these people.
But a couple of nights ago I was going through my closet looking for clothes to donate,
and I stumbled upon a sweatshirt from my trip that I took to Las Vegas a few years back,
and I was hit by a memory, like a semi-truck.
Every day since then, it has become more and more vivid.
For context, I've always been a petite girl.
My growthspert happened in the summer of 4th grade.
I went from 4 foot 10 to 5 foot 2 and have yet to gain an inch on my height.
I was also obsessed with the true crime and horror of the internet.
It started off with creepy pastas, conspiracy theories, and once I found out about true
crime documentaries, all of my YouTube and Netflix, I became very aware of the dangers
of the world at a very young age.
But I have grown up in a small rural town in southeastern Washington.
I've been there my whole life, and never thought anything like that could happen to me.
But there was one time, where if I hadn't been unsupervised on the internet, I doubt
I would be typing this.
I believe I was 11 or 12 at the time when my mom and dad decided to take a trip to Las Vegas with me, my brother, my mom's sister, brother-in-law, and their three kids.
The trip was fine and I remember almost nothing from it, until the day we had to leave and
fly back home.
We had all gotten up at 7 a.m. and began to finish packing toiletries and ensuring that
we wouldn't leave anything behind.
By the time we were out of the house, it was somewhere around 8.30am.
We had rented a car, and the rental company told us to fill up with gas within a 5-10-mile radius from the airport the morning of return. So we pulled into a shell maybe 2-3 minutes from the airport.
So we pulled into a shell, maybe two to three minutes from the airport.
My brother was about 16 or 17 at the time.
So he just wanted to get home as soon as possible
since the last thing a teenage boy wants to do
is go on a two week long family trip.
With all of the other relatives,
so he was just attached to his phone in the car,
blasting his music.
My mom and dad were going into the gas station
for snacks and asked if either of us needed to use the bathroom or get a quick snack before
having to be on three different flights because of our layovers to get home. We both said no,
and they headed in. My parents worked a lot and still do, so me and my brother grew up very socially independent.
Even though he was older than me, I still learned to raise myself, so even now, if I have
somewhere to go or be, I simply go.
The biggest difference now is that I know anything can happen to anyone and I carry two. Yes, two
pocket knives and pepper spray with me at all times. After 10 to 15 minutes, I started
to realize that I did have to use the bathroom. We were at the closest pump and I didn't
think anyone would try to swoop up a kid in the clear, bright Saturday morning, especially at a buzzing gas station. I tapped
my brother, and he angrily huffed out a, what do you want? He then pushed back his headphones.
My brother, being a hormonal teenager at the time, always had small outbursts like that with me.
Even years later, we don't have the best relationship.
This startled me, and lightly wounded my excited mood to get back home. I faintly murmured,
I was going to the bathroom and he nodded, and annoyed, but his headphones back on returning
to submerging himself into his phone. I got out of the car and was maybe 2-3 feet from the entrance when
I felt a dusty, callous hand on my shoulder. It was July and Las Vegas, at least 90 plus
heat. My town had always given me 80 degrees at most when I was younger, so I was in a new
tank top and sweatpants at the time. I also wanted to be
comfortable for the plane ride's home. I turned around confused, knowing my brother's
hand was not at all that rough or large. I saw a man looming over me. He was tan, his eyes
were piercing blue, not in a charming and rapturing kind of way, but in this very creepy
way. Almost like they were so light that they had the life sucked out of them. He had a
scruffy beard and a fully grown mustache. He wore a hat, and his facial hair had patches
of gray. He reaked of cigarettes, and what I now know to be whiskey. He looked
to be about 50 and his smile showed the tooth decay that any smoking PSA organizers could
use to deter anyone from smoking. He was lean maybe 6 foot 3, but then again this is a
7 year old memory. But he did seem like the kind of guy who could give up a hell of a chase even if it smelled like
he smoked eight packs a day. Though he stunk with alcohol, it was very coherent.
You're so pretty, he smiled. His breath had a pungent smell like a Nashville parking lot,
maybe a fish market, a bar bathroom.
Oh, thank you. Suddenly every video I ever watched or story that I had read on kidnappings
struck me like a bat to the stomach. But I knew that I had to remain calm, even though
I had the speed of a cheetah at that age I was tired, I was in sweltering heat.
I already had the stamina of an obese cat at this point.
I also couldn't run inside since he was at my level, had probably a solid 100 to 120
pounds more than me, and it was a pole door.
I also couldn't run to the car because being the nice sister I was, I thought, maybe
let's not rope my brother into this.
I also thought that he would have yelled if he found out I had interacted with that man
at all.
What race are you?
He asked me.
Huh?
I asked with so much disgust and fear bubbling in my guts.
You look native, maybe Mexican.
Asian?
His grin kept growing wider and wider.
And as a smile grew, the thought of me getting back to my family boomed louder and louder
in my ears.
He had taken a lock of my hair and twirled it with his finger, then tucked it behind my
ear.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
Oh, um, as I was trying to think of what to say, I looked over his shoulder and saw a concerned
couple watching from their car pointing at me.
The man saw this and grabbed my shoulders.
Hey, look at me!
He barked.
I started to cry.
He then whispered into my ear.
Ah, don't close those pretty eyes.
And began wiping my tears.
I then hear the couple running over to us.
Excuse me, sir.
The lady almost roared out and worried.
Do you know this girl?"
She then shifted to me.
Do you know this man, honey?
I started shaking and I shook my head no.
No, this is my niece.
He threw out some bullshit name, then stood up from his crouched position. I don't know you, I said.
For some reason, I stopped crying, and started boiling with so much rage.
My mom and dad are inside, I don't know you!
The husband then took the man by the collar of his dingy leather jacket and pushed him away.
The man started throwing his hands up in defense, kind of like, hey, come on now."
The lady then said, do you see your mom through the door?
I saw her paying at the cash register with her back to the door and I nodded quietly.
The lady then opened the door for me and I went running to my mother.
I clung to her so tight and asked her to go to the bathroom with me.
She was confused because
usually I would just go by myself, but she agreed. My dad finished paying and we walked
to the bathroom.
I know I've had a small glimpse of this story flashed through my memory, specifically
him smiling at me, maybe six inches from my face, and every time I kick myself for not
saying anything.
I was scared that my family would have been mad that I was talking to the man, or that
I didn't go back to the car.
I hoped deep down in my heart that couple told somebody what had happened.
They had gotten a good look at his face, and I was just a little kid.
I wonder if he was ever caught if it was his first attempt, or if he hurt any other young
girls.
My family and most of my friends still don't know the story mostly because I had blocked
it out, but ever since then, I've been hyper-vigilant of my surroundings, even in my little
old ghost town.
Also, since then, I have learned that kidnappings don't always end in raising the kid, and also
what sex trafficking is.
So to that couple who said something, thank you so much for saving my life and my well-being
that day.
And to the man who likes to act like little girls' uncles
and probably ruined my life,
my knives and pepper spray are ready for you.
So, for your well-being,
let's hope that your locked up are dead.
If not, let's not meet. When I was 16, I worked at a restaurant.
I was always at the bar making food, taking orders, cleaning, and doing the dishes.
When I first started working there, there was a guy that would always order food and take
it home.
But after a while,
he stopped taking the order home and started eating at the bar, or I was always working.
He always wanted to make conversation, and I'm not going to lie. He was handsome.
So being young, naive, and very interested, I went along with it.
Sometimes he even tried to tip me secretly by putting some money underneath the plate,
Sometimes, he even tried to tip me secretly by putting some money underneath the plate, and he would whisper into my ear.
There's money underneath.
Take it while nobody sees you.
Buy something nice for yourself.
After some time, he found me on Instagram and started talking to me.
We'll call the guy Kevin.
At the time, I had just broken up with my first ever boyfriend, so I was fragile, and any
attention from anyone would do.
Kevin and I would talk often, at some point he wanted to meet up, so we did.
He drove this really big expensive car, and when I asked him what he did for a living,
he would always just say he scouts men for soccer.
Over the following years, we were together quite often, but never in our hometown, which
I thought was weird, but I never really asked because I was so happy hanging out with
him and he was taken care of me.
We were intimate, but sometimes he would ask me to do things I just didn't want to.
He would often get irritated and try to force me, but I didn't really think much of it.
Like I said, I was young, naive, and just happy that even though he would act like that
sometimes, he still took care of me.
And by taking care of me, I mean he would take me to hotels, fancy restaurants, always
being there for me.
After a while, our contact began to dwindle,
and at one point he called me to say he needed to see me, so he picked me up with a fancy
scooter. It was daytime, very sunny. We drove to this nice area with trees and a basketball
court. We sat down and he started telling me. I'm going on vacation. I don't know for how long yet, but if you don't hear from me or see me,
you know what's up. At the time I was 17 and I didn't really understand,
why would you be so vague about going on vacation? But after a while, everything fell into place.
After having the conversation about him going on vacation, he asked me to do something
which I didn't want to.
It was very intimate, so I tell him no.
He tries to force me, but I still tell him no.
He hits me in the face, my nose starts bleeding, and I start crying.
He then offers to drive me home, but I told him no,
I'm going to walk, being very upset and not wanting to see him.
Now half a year goes by. I don't hear anything from Kevin. Me being worried, I call him,
I text him, I look him up on the internet. I found his linked in profile, but that's
it. I didn't know what to do. I didn't
know any of his friends or family, and I was starting to get worried.
Two months go by. I call and text again. It just goes straight to voicemail and my texts
don't go through. I look him up again and is linked and is gone, but what I did find
made me feel gross, guilty and terrified.
The news article said 26-year-old serial rapist arrested.
The picture was of Kevin, mind you, the women that he assaulted weren't women.
It were girls from 10 to 16 years old.
It sends shivers through my spine. The way that he treated them, it was ungodly.
I also found out that while we were together, he had a girlfriend the entire time. In the
news article, it said that he always beat her up.
The thing that he said about going on vacation, he knew exactly what was about to happen.
He was going to get his karma for all of the terrible things he did.
I'm now 23 years old and when I look back on that time, I feel so sorry for myself.
I was so naive and I just wanted someone to see me for me. But now I know you never really know somebody.
Even when you think you do, you don't. Out of all of those girls,
I was the lucky one, I guess. From this day, I still don't know why he treated me the way
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This is something that I wish I told more people, and I'm hoping this is how I can. I was
13 years old at the time. I was a feisty kid. Every Friday after school, me and my friends
would walk down three blocks to the ice cream shop. It's where all the kids would go. It was always really crowded.
One day, me and my friends were eating ice cream at a table. I was looking for money so that we could
also get a Sunday. Then, my mom called me. I walked away from the table to the hallway that
leads to the bathroom. Now this was in a mall, but the place I found was somewhat private.
Now this is when a 35 to 40-year-old man approached me. He looked very creepy, and I was a root
kid. I didn't take shit from anyone. He asked me, do you want me to pay? I looked up at
him. He was a big man. He smelled like garbage. I politely said no thank you.
I went on talking to my mom.
No, no, please let me get you ice cream," he said, moving closer to me.
I was creeped the hell out so I backed away and stood closer to my friends near the counter
of the ice cream shop. I did this so that the person working would see me.
"'Come on, it's my treat,'' the man said.
"'Now I was mad,' I replied.
I said no.'
This was louder than my last response.
My mom heard me through the phone.
She was screaming at me to put her on speaker. She yelled at me to
kick him. Being a stupid kid, I actually hung up the phone and told her that it was my
friend and that everything was okay. Now I have no idea why I lied, maybe because I thought
I could fight for myself or I was embarrassed in some weird way. The man smiled at me. It made my stomach hurt.
You're so pretty, I want to buy you some ice cream. Come on!" he said.
He put his arm around me. The boy at the counter of the ice cream shop,
who looked to be about 15, was tall. I think he was on the football team.
He yells, back up, man.
I'm now crying. How had my friends not come to my rescue? Why was I crying? Why was I so
scared? Why wasn't I fighting back?
She's my kid. Don't worry, the man said, with a grin on his face. This actually pissed
me off, and I'm now in fight mode. I kicked him in the
shins hard.
"'You little thing come over here,' he yelled. Now everyone was looking. My friends, everyone
in the food court, thank God for the nice guy at the ice cream shop. He threw the guy out
of the mall, and he was banned for life. My friends walked me home for a month after that. Since then,
I've gotten pepper spray, but I was scared for a long time. But I was also stronger. I wasn't
going to live in fear anymore. So to that man at the ice cream shop, I hope for your sake, we don't meet.
In the 90s, I was in my early to mid teens.
AOL was all the rage.
I was online as often as my parents would let me be.
I met a guy in a chat room.
We'll call him John.
We talked regularly for a while.
John lived in Los Angeles.
I lived in Texas.
He was into fashion and told me that I would be a great model.
I had never really wanted to be a model,
but what teen girl isn't flattered by someone thinking that they could be one?
One day, he started asking me to come out to LA.
Now, we had moved to Texas from California, so I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of going
that far. For any reason, not to mention, my parents would
have kittens if I had even tried. He continues to say all the right things and how I could
stay with him and how great I would be at modeling, etc. He sent me photos of him and he was
very attractive, at least to my hormonal teen self. I declined and declined
as the urging went on from flattering to annoying and then to downright creepy.
Finally, one day he just stopped talking to me and I forgot about him for good 10 years
until I randomly remembered the fashion creep from LA one day, and how he had tried to convince
an underage girl to come stay with him. His screen name had been his actual name, so I looked
him up. He was in fact a well-known fashion designer, but not only was he older than he
said he was, he had been arrested, with charges of sexual assault, solicitation of minors, and trying
to lure underage women to his apartment under the pretense of being models in LA, New
York, and Texas.
He's currently serving a 60-year sentence.
Now here's the thing, around that same time that John had been arrested, I was in my
20s, and doing the internet dating thing.
I met a different guy on one of the big name dating sites, and we hit it off.
He was tall, attractive, well-spoken, all of my favorite things.
Eventually, we met up and went to a bar.
He was a regular there as the bartender knew him by name, and a couple of the other patrons
stopped to say hi.
During the date he went in and out of this Australian accent.
At one point, he took a phone call to, quote, talk to his kid.
He hadn't mentioned a kid.
But it didn't bother me.
As for his accent, it came across like he was nervous or trying to impress me.
It was weird, but he hadn't actually done anything scary, so I let it slide.
The date ended fine, and we agreed to another.
Eventually, I agreed to go back to his place.
His place turned out to be an apartment that he shared
with his mom and little brother.
Now, I don't judge, but the bunk beds were quite a shock.
Miss Adder round and he played video clips of him singing
or performing, I don't really know.
Maybe to prove something?
I could never see the singer's face
in these performance pieces.
I was sure they were actually from this actor Vincent Gallo.
But there was just enough similarity that I couldn't be 100% that it wasn't him.
A few more dates, and he disappears, poof, gone.
A month passed.
He called me from another state saying that he was suicidal and needed
to come home but didn't have money for a plane ticket. I panicked. I called my dad and
told him what was going on. My wonderful, kindhearted father agreed to buy him a plane ticket
instead of just sending money. The guy was...
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Super grateful.
And we never spoke again.
Not too long after that, I got a message on my space
from someone that I didn't know
who was reaching out to everyone on this guy's friends list.
To inform them, he was a fraud.
I was taken him back until they listed out that sometimes he used an Australian accent.
Sometimes he had a mystery kid and he often used footage from the actor Vincent Gallo claiming it
was himself, all to trick women. And when they left their purses
unattended, he would steal or copy their credit cards, then disappear and start
going by another alias. Naturally, I freaked out. I felt absolutely violated as I
had left my purse unattended many times. But I couldn't believe he used me. I
checked everything and miraculously
nothing was touched. My accounts were fine. I did a quick search and guess what? He had
been arrested for fraud, theft, etc. and was in jail.
So to the sex offender fashion designer that praised on underage girls and Mr. multiple personalities that spends his time
conning women. I'm grown now and I know how to protect myself so let's never meet again. This story happened on January 2nd at 3 in the morning.
My husband and I are night owls, and we were up way too late watching movies together.
The lights are on, but the blinds are closed. All of a sudden I hear somebody
coming up our steps, opening the storm door, and trying to walk in. They didn't knock
or ring the doorbell, they just started to turn the handle and walk right into the house.
When that didn't work, they started to knock and ring the doorbell incessantly. At that moment, I was pissed.
Now, we have kids and dogs, both of which were sleeping, and I didn't want to wake the dogs because that would wake the children,
and then the next day would be hell. If you're a parent, you understand kids need their sleep, otherwise they turn into demons.
I get up and rush to the door and tell whoever it is to get lost
and get off my property. I look through the peephole, but I couldn't see anyone.
Obviously, they were there as the doorbell was ringing and the banging continued.
Tom, close on my heels, knows that I'm going to open the door, but doesn't have a chance to stop me.
He gets behind the door to block it so that this person wouldn't be able to gain entry to the house.
He only allows the door to open about three to four inches. I'm glad he did, because as I opened
the door, I came face to face with this chick, whose face was an inch away from mine, as she indeed tried
to force the door open. I know, stupid decision to open the door, but I wasn't thinking clearly,
I just wanted the noise to stop, so that the whole house wouldn't be woken up. It worked
though, the noise stopped. We just had to deal with her.
She wasn't a big girl by any means, actually rather petite, about 5'4", 110 pounds. She
had a bunch of facial tattoos and was dressed in a black hoodie and distressed black jeans,
you know the ones with multiple large holes. After a couple of seconds of locking eyes with each other, she starts mumbling
about how she just bought this car and she had come to get the keys. I look up and notice
that she has been rummaging through our car. The car door was open and the contents of
the glove box were strewn all over the passenger seat. I tell her, no, I'm sorry that's my car and you need to leave.
She insists saying that she bought it from Susan for 500 bucks and she needed the keys.
I again tell her, no, that is my car and we did not sell it.
She then rams her shoulder into the door several times trying to get in.
We can't shut it because she has her foot in the doorway.
After a few tries, she seems to give up and then asks for some beer or smokes.
We don't smoke or drink and we told her this and she immediately says,
well, neither do I.
Yeah, right. Then get off our property.
Or we're going to call the cops.
We probably should have just called them first instead of announcing this to her, but she
finally removes her foot from the doorway and we shut the door and bolt the lock immediately.
We can hear her getting upset and I tell Tom to get ready to call the cops as my phone
was in the other room plugged
in and charging. It's at this moment that we hear the smash and shattering of glass.
I turned to Tom, call the cops now. He's not that great with speaking and high stress
times, plus he wanted to keep an eye on our would-be intruder. So I dial 911 and blurred out the situation, worried that this person is going to gain
entry to my house through the large bay window.
That if she wanted to, she could just keep smashing the front window and walk right in,
as it's a floor to ceiling type window.
The would-be intruder, instead of continuing to smash the window, starts to come
around the house. Ironic fast as I can to the back door to make sure that the inner door is locked.
Honestly though, it wouldn't make much of a difference if she really wanted to get in,
as the outer door doesn't shut properly and therefore cannot be locked, and the inner door
has a large window that could easily be broken so that
she could reach inside and unlock it.
I'm terrified in this moment because apparently I had provoked a psychopath and I am now seeing
how very unsecure our windows are.
I'm still relaying to the operator what is happening and she says that she's dispatching
units right now and they should be there soon.
She lingers in between the houses for some time, the whole time she's yelling.
She never did make it past the gate that we had recently installed, though.
Just before the police arrived, she wandered down the street and around the corner out of
our site.
The police responded within record time, only about five minutes had passed, and they
were prepared with the canine unit.
We were able to give them a very detailed description, and they tracked her to an apartment building
not far away.
The next morning I was outside assessing the damage to our window when I noticed something
laying on the sidewalk. It was a hammer.
She had a hammer in her hand the entire time. I know that situation could have gone so differently.
Had we forgotten to lock the front door or if she were able to force her way in when I stupidly
opened it. Since this event, I no longer feel safe in my home. For months, I would keep a baseball bat
with an arm's reach.
Now my bat sits near my front door.
I pick it up every time there's a knock at the door,
unless I'm expecting visitors.
To our would-be intruder, I hope we never meet again. When you love a good barbecue but want some fireworks of your own, trolley sour gummy
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I was 17 and worked at a pharmacy. At this point I had worked therefore about nine months.
This particular customer would come in about twice a day, five days a week, to place
his sports bets. I hardly noticed him up until this point. He was just another regular
who lived in the apartment building across the parking lot.
One day I was working my usual 12-9pm shift when this customer Larry came in.
He did his bedding and left the usual. That is until four minutes later, the phone rang.
Hello, thanks for calling, K-speaking. Hi, Mrs. Luther.
I was just there.
Yes, what can I help you with?
I was wondering if you wanted to give me your numbers so that we could get together
sometime.
Um, no, thanks.
I have a boyfriend.
No, I didn't, but I could tell that he was significantly older than me.
Oh, how old are you? I'm 27.
I'm 17. Sorry, I have to go. By the way, I later learned he was in his 40s.
Well, that was it. Or so I thought. This call was just the beginning of stalking and harassment that would continue for about one and a half years
Business carried on as usual. He came in with his bedding and of course things were awkward considering I had rejected getting to know him
But about three weeks after that initial phone call the text messages started I still didn't know how he got my cell number
The text messages started. I still didn't know how he got my cell number.
He would ask me over and over to talk to him and to hang out.
I told him no constantly.
And when I did, the classic, you're a slut or a bitch, messages followed.
I blocked him soon after.
He would still come in when he knew that I was working because he knew my car. He did this just to make me
uncomfortable while I served him because it would be me working from 5 to 9 p.m. I told
him to leave me alone relentlessly and threatened to take action by calling the police. None
of that helped. He would text things like, I see you at your home. I'm just down the street. Or gone shopping. He would send that while I was
at the mall from a new number. My mom used to use the car as well. And where she worked, she had
to park at the courthouse and walk from there. Lucky for me. One day he
called and said, I see your mom works at the courthouse. I don't want any trouble. To
which I responded with, then just leave me alone. He stopped calling for about three
months. The time had passed, and I would see him driving past my house about three times a day,
whether I was working or not.
The messages and calls had stopped once I blocked him, though.
He still came into work.
One night, I was hanging out with my friends about a year from when it all started, and
he called me again from an unknown number. I nearly had a panic attack
once I realized that it was him. My friend saw my face and took my phone, listening for a second,
then threatened to call the police. He thankfully hung up. This random, unknown number continues to call,
unknown number continues to call, with him saying, I know who your family is, and other creepy things.
Eventually, I left the pharmacy to go to college in a different town,
and I guess he moved on to someone else. Still catching him driving past my
mom's house sometimes, even though I live with my boyfriend now,
thankfully, he hasn't figured
out where that is.
And I drive a car now that multiple people in town have, and I work in an office where
I don't see the public.
Also, I saw his name on a court docket for multiple charges of domestic abuse and sexual
assault a few months after I had moved.
So all I can say is Larry, let's not meet again. This happened very recently on the 21st of September. I grew up and still live in a small town
in Washington State, about one and a half hours drive from Seattle, or a ferry boat ride,
dealer's choice. While Seattle is big and some of the cities near to my particular town are not the safest,
I've always felt secure here during daylight hours.
For context, I'm a 23 year old woman, and I'm 5'2".
I'm in college fully online, and my courses have weekly seminar meetings on Zoom.
During these Wednesday and Thursday evenings, I enjoy going outside to walk while
it's still daylight and play Pokemon Go.
My small town did an improvement project downtown by the waterfront a few years back, which
means we have a lovely paved path with lights and benches to walk instead of the beach or
private property owned by businesses.
It's around 6 p.m. when I get to the path to start my slow meander through downtown
and catch some Pokemon.
I've got one Bluetooth earbud in and one out so that I can hear what's going on around me.
About 640 closer to sunset.
A man in his late 20s approached. It was a generic brand of creepy, who can't take a polite no-thank-you for an answer.
He followed me, and made me seek refuge with a random group of older women who were at
a bar right off the boardwalk.
As irritating as it was, he left.
Didn't touch me, didn't threaten me.
Just left a bad taste in my mouth about the incident.
I thought that would be the end of it, and I walked back to my car.
Lecture wasn't quite over yet, so I sat in my car and the sun started to dip below the mountains.
Playing more Pokemon Go and listening to my professor talk about professionalism in the workplace.
Playing more Pokemon Go and listening to my professor talk about professionalism in the workplace. A bit after sunset, my Zoom call ends, and I'm thinking about getting home.
Then I noticed a Pokemon that I'd been trying to find was there, just a few hundred feet away.
In my mind, I think, okay, I'll drive from this parking lot to the next one and I'll catch it.
Then I would catch it. Then
I would head home. Boy was I wrong.
These parking lots connect to one another. The library parking lot goes into the boat
marina parking lot, which goes into the bank parking lot, all without going on to any
actual streets. I turned my car on, reversed safely, as it is important to note that I have a backup camera
on my car, and I didn't see any moving cars or people in my path.
I drove into the parking lot where the Pokémon was.
Out of nowhere, these bright headlights show up behind me and move so quickly into a position
where they're close enough to my bumper that I can no longer see these headlights.
I keep driving to find a spot to pull in and safely open my phone when the hair on the
back of my neck stands up.
I pull into a spot temporarily to let them pass and instead they park as close as they
can to me.
A man gets out of the
car. This is a different guy. He has a gun in his left hand. I freak out. I throw the
car into reverse, then drive, and come very close to hitting him with my car. Thank God
he didn't shoot at it, or me for that matter. I drive away dialing 911 as I'm pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road at
breakneck speeds so that he can't follow me.
I describe all the details that I can and I tell them that I don't know what I could have
done to upset him, I don't know what he looked like or what the car looked like to the
best of my abilities I tried to describe everything. They me that they would go look but couldn't do anything without
any more information I didn't provoke them I didn't cut them off in traffic
steal their parking spot anything that remotely warranted a gun being pulled on me
he could have pulled behind my car and blocked me.
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Mean followed me home, shot at my car when I drove away all perfectly terrifying.
I made it home safely, and I wasn't shot or hurt by either man that day.
I might actually have the first man to thank for my being on edge just enough to not sit
there like a fish and a barrel for that man with the gun.
I was lucky and I'm grateful.
But to the man with that black hatch back in a gun, let's not meet again.
I've been listening to the podcast for two years now, and I felt like it was finally time
to submit one of my own stories. This occurred
when I was seven or eight years old. This story is also from my mom's point of view and
memory, as I was so young I didn't even know that this had happened.
My family and I went on a weekend trip to a busy city. We decided to spend one of the
days at a busy museum downtown.
When walking in, my mom had noticed what she described to be a tall, unkempt looking
man. He had black long hair, and although he looked a little sketchy, she didn't think
twice about him. After walking around the museum for a while, my family decided that it was time to go.
My dad went to grab the car and pull it out in front as I have a sister who would have
been a young baby at the time.
Now as my dad rolled up, my mom, sister, and I walked over to the vehicle.
My mom started loading my sister in the car, and I stayed behind a few meters back.
My mom says she remembers feeling this weird sensation
and something just made her turn her head around.
When she turned around,
she saw that same man that she saw
when walking into the museum,
but this time he was right behind me,
walking up to me as if he were going to grab me.
My mom yelled for me to get into the car, and she grabbed me. We hopped in and sped off.
Right as my mom yelled, the man walked away. Had this man been following us around the museum?
Why had he been right behind me? What if my mom hadn't turned around?
Why had he been right behind me? What if my mom hadn't turned around?
So many what ifs, I'm just grateful my mom turned her head just in time to stop whatever
was about to happen.
So to the scary big man who was just seconds away from doing God knows what and who had
followed us out of the museum.
Let's not meet.
And to all the parents, siblings and guardians out there, please remember the scariest things
happen in the blink for your extended,
ad-free version of this week's episode of Let's Not Meet.
And if you'd like to get access to that exclusive content, head over to patreon.com forward slash
Let's Not Meet podcast, or follow the link in the show notes to support the show today.
This week you have heard.
On the way out of Las Vegas by Megan, you never really know somebody by a listener that asked
to remain anonymous. The ice cream shop by a listener that asked to remain anonymous.
Apparently I'm a con man magnet by Thesaurus at it. Give me the keys by Wiggly.
Creepy sports betting Larry by Strictly K.
Don't go alone by a listener that asked to remain anonymous.
And finally, the big tall museum man by Jordan.
All 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.
As always, if you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
And don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts, Odd Trails My True Paranormal
Show, as well as the old time radio cast. You can find those at crypticcountypodcasts.com
or wherever you get your podcasts. And finally, mark your calendars for October 27th. We'll be doing
another live stream, Twitch episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast, over at twitch.tv
forward slash crypticcounty. You can follow the link in the show notes to follow me today so
that you can be ready for when we go live at 7 p.m. Pacific Standard Time. Again, that's October 27th.
I'm going to be having all of the usual returning guests, Soren Narnia, Shelby Scott,
Amanda and Cassidy from Drinking the Cool Aid. We'll also be joined by Brandon Wemir from my
other podcast, Odd Trails.
Joel from Let's Read is going to make another appearance and we have a surprise guest from
another amazing podcast that I'm excited to share with you all.
Now this isn't a season finale episode, it's a Halloween special.
We didn't do one of our livestream episodes for the end of season 8, so I wanted to make
it up to you guys and what better time to do it and Halloween.
Again, October 27th,
twitch.tv-criptych-county,
and don't worry,
there's nothing wrong with your podcast apps.
We're now releasing all of the episodes of my podcasts
at 12 a.m. Pacific time,
every single Sunday or Monday morning depending where you're at
on the globe. I don't know how time works. I'm not a scientist. I'm not a math magician.
Anyways, don't worry. It's going to be in your feed every Sunday night 12 a.m.
We'll see you all next week. Stay safe. Music When you love a good barbecue but want some fireworks of your own, trolleys sour gummy
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