Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - Wednesday One-Shot: I Kept Getting Back in the Car with Him
Episode Date: June 15, 2023Welcome to Wednesday One-Shots. Enjoy this bonus story to help get you through that midweek slump. This week we have a story by a listener that asked to remain anonymous. The story you've heard ...this week was narrated and produced with the permission of its respective author. 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! Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Welcome to Paradise (It Sucks), and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts! - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty
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Welcome to Wednesday One Shots, where we share a bonus story with you to help you get
through that midweek slump.
This week we have a story from a listener that asked to remain anonymous.
It's a very important story, and I'm really glad that they chose to share it with us.
A few years ago, I was about to turn 20, so I decided that it was time to learn how to
drive.
A colleague from my job at the time gave me the number of somebody that her
granddaughter had learned to drive with. I guess the instructor was good since her granddaughter
passed the driving test on her first try. That was apparently all the information I needed
since I messaged the instructor right away and arranged my first lesson in two weeks'
time. Two weeks had passed quickly, and I met him for the first lesson.
He was an old man who smelled of cigarette smoke and had a permanent smirk.
He thought that it was appropriate to call me babe from lesson one.
I never corrected him, and I assumed that he just did this because he had so many students
and couldn't remember everybody's names.
During our lesson, I was struggling to get a grip with the clutch.
I stalled it multiple times.
He put his hand on my knee, squeezed it, and then left it there.
I never pushed him away, and I figured he was trying to reassure me.
I guess I didn't want to seem rude.
As I continued attending lessons, I continued to make a million more excuses for his behavior.
I was even trying to tell myself that this was normal for driving lessons.
During lesson one, we were working on doing emergency stops.
I made one where I slammed on the brakes and the momentum kept me moving forward until
the seat belt lurched me back.
He shot his arm out. My chest lined up with where his hand was.
I thought I possibly imagined it, but I didn't want to be weird, so I still didn't say
a word. I continued with another lesson after that. For this lesson, I drove as directed
towards the coast. We ended up
on a tiny lane in a secluded area. I can't bring myself to go into any more additional
details, but after this lesson, I wasn't making any more excuses for this man, and thankfully,
there were no more lessons after that. I burned with shame after these lessons since
I did nothing. I was terrified people would find out so I didn't
tell anyone. I was also in an abusive relationship at the time and didn't even dare tell him. I knew if I
did, I'd be in a horrendous amount of trouble and accused of cheating. I disassociated from everything
pretending that it was something I had read in the chapter of someone else's book.
everything pretending that it was something I had read in the chapter of someone else's book.
Fast forward a year later, I started a new job surrounded by colleagues and we gathered together for team breakfast. Walking back through town to get to our offices, we rounded a corner
and my heart stopped. I saw him, the driving instructor. I couldn't breathe. He blew me a kiss as he passed, and every single memory hit me.
I threw up.
Disassociation was no longer an option.
I felt like I was about to pass out.
By some miracle, my new job was with the police, and they know trauma when they see it.
I was gently guided back to the office and
taken to a victim's suite, where a senior detective sat with me, as I steadied my breathing.
I told him everything, unaware of the tears streaming down my face. I could only stare at the
ground and shame and embarrassment for being so stupid. I found it difficult to look the detective
in the eye. As I finished telling my story, I was sure I was going to lose my job. I felt like people
like me didn't deserve to be on the force. I felt like a stupid girl for attracting
disgusting attention. The detective held my hand and apologized. He told me that it wasn't
my fault and thanked me for being brave and sharing.
Fast forward again to the start of this year.
Telling my story sparked an overdue investigation.
To date, 12 additional students have come forward, both male and female.
This man's driving school has been closed and he was forced to move away.
To the driving instructor asshole, you'd better pray that we never meet again.
The girl you knew has grown into a bad ass woman who will not take any crap.
And to any other survivors, it's not your fault.
All the blame lies unequivocally on your predator.
Any blame or shame left behind is not yours to carry.
Be kind to yourself because you undoubtedly deserve it. Be rude, be weird, and stay safe.
I want to thank the anonymous author for sending in that story. I kept getting back in the car with
him and thank you for listening. I felt that this story was very important to share. I really hope
that it can help somebody out there that's in a similar situation that's silently suffering alone.
You don't have to be alone.
Talk to somebody.
We'll see you next week for a full episode of Let's Not Meet.
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