Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 10x02: The Basement Bathroom - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: February 20, 2023

Stories in this episode: - Creepy Story from 1990, by Breezy (0:50) - The Basement Bathroom by Emilie (5:17) - The Aggressive Good Samaritan, by Gracie (15:32) - Creepy Camouflaged Mountain Man, by Lily (19:07) - Man in the Woods, by Halley (30:54) - Stalked by the River, by Simon (34:42) - Dairy Queen Creep, by Umbridge_Shenanigans (43:13) - I Scared a Sports Star, by Gracie (46:25) Extended Patreon Content: - Creepy Cop, by Beau - The Yellow School Bus, by Jaime - Catcall Creep, by Ingrid To donate a few bucks to help my childhood friend Kailene pay for her medical expenses for cancer treatment, visit https://www.gofundme.com/f/kailene-spray-raygoza. 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 [e-mail].   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!  Listen to Everything Is Creepy on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you find your favorite Podcasts with new episodes every Wednesday, and watch on YouTube the following day at https://www.youtube.com/@EverythingisCreepy/about PDS DEBT is offering free debt analysis to our listeners just for completing the quick and easy debt assessment at www.PDSDebt.com/meet.  - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/

Las comunidades negras e ispanas se vende especorcionalmente afectadas por la enfermedad de las células falsiformes, una enfermedad devastadora que puede provocar anemia, fatiga, crisis de dolor, insuficiencia en diversos órganos, y muerte prematura. Un nuevo estudio de investigación ofrece el potencial para luchar contra la enfermedad de células falsiformas. Visite ruby-scd-stary.com para obtener más información sobre una opción de tratamiento en investigación para la enfermedad de células falsiformes. El estudio ahora está reclutando personas de 18 a 50 años. En Dallas, visite ruby-scd-stary.com.

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 10 episode 2 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror podcast. Enjoy the show. My family and I moved to a new town in Idaho in 1990 when I was 10 years old. It was wintertime, with freshly fallen snow. One night I was in my new bedroom, decorating, setting everything up just right and getting ready for bed.

I thought that I heard a noise outside my room. My peek through the blinds to see what it was. My saw nothing, so I went about my night. But then I heard the noise again, and it sounded like tapping or knocking. Once again, I peeked out the window and saw nothing. I stayed up really late that night, being a 10-year year old kid, I imagined I was probably doing stupidly embarrassing things like singing new kids on the block into my hairbrush as if it were a microphone. I know for sure that I changed out of my clothes and into my pajamas while continuing to organize my room.

As the night progressed, I kept hearing the same noise. I definitely wasn't going to alert my parents since I was up really late and I wasn't supposed to be. They were already asleep at that point. The next day I told my dad about the noises and how I thought that it was creepy. I let him know that I never saw anything outside of my blinds, but I wanted to alert him just in case. He opened the front door to look since my room was right by the front door. lines, but I wanted to alert him, just in case. He opened the front door to look since my room was right by the front door. He saw footprints from large boots in the snow.

The prints led to my window, and there were boot prints facing my window as if someone had been standing there and peering in. My dad was on high alert and went outside to follow the remaining boot prints to see where they led. He followed the prints all the way to our new neighbor's door. The neighbor was a young man who lived with his family. He had a daughter who I had just met the week that we moved in. I went to her house.

I met her family. I stayed for a bit. I was stoked to have made a new friend. Well, my dad confronted her dad about these boot prints in the snow. My dad asked our neighbor to come outside so that he could compare what his boot print looked like versus what was in the snow. Sure enough, it was a match.

Now our neighbor denied ever walking over to our house and standing at my bedroom window, but we knew that it was him for sure. The proof was right there. My dad left and went to file a police report the next day. I was so scared and freaked out over this. Even though I had blinds on my window, it was still possible to see inside my room from the gaps on the sides of the blinds. My sister and I went outside to check it out ourselves, and we were able to see that somebody could easily see inside my room pretty well from the gaps. My parents got some curtains to completely block the windows for my room quickly

after we discovered all of this. The creepiest part of the whole thing was that the police went over to my neighbor's house not just once, but twice. The very next day, my neighbor's daughter came over to our house and told me that her dad got a job offer in another state and would be moving there temporarily. From that point on, he never came back to his family. It was wild. I still can't believe that it happened. We ended up moving after living in that house for a year. When we moved to a new house, a similar situation happened to me again. I have terrible luck,

and now I'm super hyper-vigilant as an adult. I'm always watching and keeping my head on swivel. You just never know if there's somebody creeping out there. And that's really the creepiest aspect of stalkers. They can and do react in creepy ways, and we must stay alert. This is a story that took place in New York City in the early 2000s before 9-11. My friend and I have since stopped talking about the incident, but it honestly creeps me out more and more as the years go by. I realize just how lucky we were to have escaped something potentially more sinister. My friend, we'll call her Casey, and I had been friends

since we were kids. We met at summer day camp when we were around ten years old. Being the boy crazy girls that we were, we eventually realized that we both had a crush on the same 12-year-old boy. He had long bangs hanging down from his ball-cut, and if you were a kid in the mid-90s, you remember the look very well. One day, during an archery lesson, Casey and I were humiliated by our instructor because we were pointing the arrows through the bow the wrong way, at the same time. The boy we liked made fun of us and front of everyone. So much for Kupid's arrow, right? But our friendship was born into our delight, Kaci and I found out that we had been attending the

same middle school. Fast forward to just after high school graduation. Casey and I convinced our moms to let us go to New York City. Neither Casey nor I had ever been to New York City without parents. Let alone staying overnight in a big city on our own. Casey was known for being loud and sometimes a little aggressive, though she was also very sweet. She just knew how to speak her mind. I was shy and sometimes a pushover in any type of conflict.

If anyone gave me a hard time, Kasey would tell them off immediately, and that was that. It was a dynamic that had always served me well in our friendship. But honestly, at that age, we were a bit clueless and naive when it came to just about everything. When we got into the car and left for our overnight trip, we could barely drive anywhere outside of our hometown without getting lost. Once we were on the highway, I realized I had been driving in the opposite direction for nearly an hour, seriously. But we didn't care. Our moms had booked a hotel in downtown Manhattan, and we were beyond excited for this freedom and responsibility that we had never tasted before. The whole point of this trip was to see a Q&A that our favorite B-list celebrity would be participating

in the next day. We were so excited at the prospect of meeting this guy and potentially giving him a hug and getting our picture taken with him. He wasn't very well known, but he would go on to be very famous only a few years later. We still managed to arrive early in the day and check into our hotel. Casey and I freaked out a little while trying to plan what we were going to wear to meet our celebrity crush. And if you were wondering yes, we brought several outfits because we knew it was going to be impossible to choose the perfect one.

It had to be just right for this guy. In the meantime, we were hungry and wanted to explore the city a little bit before dark. We stopped at a well-known fast food pizza place. It wasn't too crowded, but about as busy as you would expect, a downtown pizza spot to be around lunchtime. Casey kept complaining about the underwire and her fancy new bra, and I really needed to use the restroom so we asked the cashier where we could go. He motioned toward the back of the restaurant. We noticed there were fewer people towards the back, as if it seemed like not many people stayed to dine. Most people just grabbed the slice and took to the street.

We found what we assumed was the basement door with the restroom sign and carefully stepped down the winding stairs. It smelled dink and musty. There were lots of boxes against the wall, but we saw some doors in the very back. There was a person in sight, not an employee or patron. I'm not the biggest fan of basements in general, but I honestly wasn't too creped out just yet. We were still riding our city-girl high and giggling as we approached the women's restroom. It was a very tiny, very cramped space. When you entered through the door, there was a mirror and vanity about six or seven feet ahead. Then two toilet stalls to the right.

I was in the stall closest to the door and Casey was in the other. She slung her uncomfortable bra over the stall door as she changed. We heard the front door push open and closed shut. We continued to chit chat until a deep voice said, hey, the men's room is closed. Might if I come in? Embarrassingly we both said, sure, as if it wasn't odd having a strange man stand around as we occupied the only two stalls that were available. We'll be out in a sec, I added, flushing the toilet.

I watched as Casey pulled the broad down from the door and presumably shoved it into her bag, then unlatched the stall door. What happened next all went down in under two minutes, but I remember feeling like it was an hour. There was an eerie silence as I pulled my pants up and buttoned them. I heard Casey in a low voice. Oh, um, can you please not do that? Another short silence. And again, Casey whimpered. Can you please put that thing away? I opened my door to find Casey, ready to burst into tears, backing into the vanity, while

the man slowly advanced toward her. He was in his mid to late fifties, tall with grayish hair, dressed in a well-tailored brown suit. He could have been on a lunch break from Wall Street for all we knew. His hand was moving rapidly, and I saw what was happening. He quickly turned to me and asked, you want to earn a quick ten bucks little girl? Casey was softly crying as he had us cornered in this tiny room, where even a scream wouldn't reach the busy floors upstairs. It suddenly occurred to me how isolated and vulnerable we were.

I wondered if he had a weapon, other than the disgusting one that he had in front of us. I grabbed Casey by the shirt and dragged her towards the door. The man blocked us. With his tall, built body. The little whores aren't going anywhere. He threatened, with a sickening grin. At some point in my life, my mom had told me, when push comes to shove, you can hold your own. At that moment, with Casey trembling by my side, I literally pushed the man as hard as I could. There was a bit of a struggle as the man grabbed at me, but finally, I got around him and ushered Casey out, I told her to run. Before she could run, the man quickly let go of me and sprinted past Casey.

My adrenaline must have been pumping because as he ran up the stairs I yelled, you better run, you fucking pervert. By the time Casey and I made it upstairs he had escaped. We shouted to the employees that a man just tried to assault us in the bathroom, but nobody really reacted or said anything. The man was gone, just another spec in a crowded New York City street. I often wonder what would have happened if he had managed to barricade us down there or worse, if there had only been one of us alone. In a way, this is a story of personal triumph for me, but I also know it boiled down the luck.

If he had a weapon, or if he really wanted to, he could have overpowered us, especially since Casey was frozen in fear. I still won't use public basement bathrooms alone and I hate using them even if I'm with someone. To that fancy dressed New York predator, let's hope we never meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen.

Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. This happened in the summer of 2021. I was still living with my parents, and it was late at night, so I was in bed. In my room at the time, my headboard was against the window in my room, so that I could get a cool breeze while smoking in bed. I was sitting up, watching TikTok, when I heard shouting outside from the street. I was wearing headphones, and there were a few bars within a five minute walk from my

parents' house, so to be honest, I was used to the neighbors coming home drunk on occasion, especially during the summer. It wasn't until I took one of my ear buds out that I realized a guy was shouting my neighbor's name. My neighbor was married and had two toddlers, so I knew that both she and her husband were home. Whoever this guy was, he was shouting her name loud enough, that I was sure it woke her and the kids up. I took both ear buds out and turned off my phone.

Hey, I heard. He sounded closer. He repeated it again. Hey! I took a breath and turned around. Outside on the street, I saw a man in dirty work clothes, standing under a street lamp looking directly at me. You! Do you know if she's home?" he asked. Yeah, but she's sleeping. I shouted at him. He held up a purse under the glow of the street lamp. I have her bag. I have to give it to her," he insisted.

"'You can probably just leave it on her doorstep. She'll get it in the morning,' I suggested. He stepped closer. Into the driveway and I saw his face. He was middle-aged and looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. I thought to myself, if I was my neighbor, with small kids, this was the last person I'd want to see on my doorstep in the middle of the night. No, I have to give it to her. You don't understand," he persisted.

I promised her porch is hidden enough, so it'll be safe until the morning, I said. He mumbled as he straightened from the 45-degree angle stance that he was standing in, and then ran full speed towards her yard. I could tell by the grunt in the thud that I heard that he threw her purse over the fence. He walked over to my driveway and said, there! The following day my mom caught my neighbor on her way to work and asked about the guy from the night before. My neighbor said that she heard everything and was understandably terrified. The day before she had taken her kids to the park, she set her purse down on a bench and completely

forgot about it as she was corralling her two year olds into the car. She panicked for the rest of the day because both her American and Chinese passports, her ID, credit cards, and photos of her kids were all in there. She found everything except the photos of the children strewn all over the yard the next morning. The best-case scenario is that this was an aggressive good Samaritan that wanted a reward for something for returning her bag. But why he decided that one in the morning was the best time to do so is beyond me. I really don't want to meet this man again. I'm from a small town in the heart of Virginia nestled between mountain peaks.

This story took place during my Thanksgiving break from college in 2019. My best friend from school, who will call Elaine, was from Missouri. She couldn't be convinced to pay for a plane ticket to go home so she decided to come spend her break with me and my folks. Being the host, I felt like it was necessary to show her the culture of my little hideaway town, which included a Walmart, a few hiking trails, and odd shops run by the locals. One of the most revered spots among high schoolers and alcoholics is a place simply referred to as the rock.

Going to the rock with friends was almost a ride of passage among teens. It was a place where board 14 to 18-year-olds could go party uninhibited by law enforcement or other adults who could ruin the fun. In being true to my young backwoods' self, I decided Elaine hadn't really seen my town until she experienced the rock, so we decided to set off my little Nissan Versa to traverse the mountain. For some context, to get to the rock, you have to drive about 30 minutes away from my house which was already in the middle of nowhere.

This meant we had to drive even further into the middle of nowhere. You know how you have to take a certain turn-off which was always hidden behind tall grass and wasn't indicated by a street sign? Well, from there you follow a paved road that was only wide enough for one car up the mountain. Driving up this paved road, there are patches of thick forest where you can't even see past three trees, and there are these amazing overlooks that have views of miles upon miles of cow fields. There are people who live up in this mountain. The trek uphill begins with nice cabin-style houses owned by families, but further uphill,

the houses become more shack-like, and eventually there's no housing at all. After a while, the paved road meets a gravel road that winds up the rest of the hill. Now, it's important to note that there are plenty of private property and no trespassing signs posted on this road. These signs have been posted by the local electric company, which has towers at the mountaintop. Believe me when I say, I'm a rule follower. Even local law enforcement knew about the rock, and no one ever reported getting into actual trouble for trespassing from being up there.

Officers only showed up sometimes to break up a rager and make sure that nobody fell off the cliffs. I was confident that Elaine and I would be fine during this trip, as I always was when I went up to the rock. We reached the end of the gravel road and I went up to the rock. We reached the end of the gravel road, and we got out of the car. Some clouds had moved in while we had been driving uphill, and a deep fog had set into the woods that we parked in. We could barely see. Since we had taken the time to drive up there, I still thought that it would be fun to see

the graffiti on the rock from prior high school classes dating back to 1988. I located the footpath that we had to take through the grassy forest to get to the rock. The mistyness of the fog definitely gave off a spooky vibe, but also added to the fun of everything. It was fall, and the leaves were turning a beautiful orange and yellow color, as they lined the pathways that we were walking on. I'm serious when I say that this fog was so thick that if I was any more than 10 feet ahead of a lane, she would not be able to see me, and I'd have to stop and wait for her

to catch up. When we finally made it to the rock, Elaine was an awe of it. She thought that it wasn't actually going to be a big rock, but there, teetering on the edge of a cliff was a giant boulder, covered in rainbow graffiti, littered with beer cans and discarded cigarettes from all of the parties. The trees looked like Christmas ornaments had been hung on all of them, but it was really just bras belonging to girls who had come up there to hook up. It became a tradition to toss their discarded undergarments as an I was here kind of marker. It really was quite a sight to see.

It feels a bit like a time capsule. Elaine and I had finished exploring and walked back towards my car. It was dead silent up there at the rock with the exception of our chatting and our footsteps breaking the leaves on the path. Elaine actually took one of the most cursed looking pictures of me in existence, where I look like a giant goblin hobbling through the fog, but that isn't the scary part.

When we made it back to the car, we were physically damp from our hike. We had been scrolling through various photos that we had taken on our phones. The fog was now hanging so close to us that we couldn't even see the trees anymore. I had taken the time to check around the car before getting in to make sure all the tires had air and nothing had fallen off during our ascent. We were giggling with each other when all of a sudden we heard a knock at the window. Remember, there isn't a house for miles out here. If there were any vehicles on the road, we easily would have seen them or heard them. We hadn't seen any other vehicles this entire time, so I wouldn't have thought anyone

would be nearby. We both screamed bloody murder as our phones flew out of our hands and we turned towards the window. Outside was a man. He was a very large man, I might add, wearing all camouflage. He even had his face painted to further conceal himself. I couldn't tell what his face looked like. He had a large beard, and he looked like he hadn't showered or seen another human being in months. Now, it wasn't uncommon for Hermit to live in the mountains, but what really put me off

was the giant shotgun that he had in his hands and a second one strapped to his back. Looking back, I handled the situation stupidly. I proceeded to start the car and opened the window just to crack. Hi, I said sheepishly, trying to seem as innocent as possible. He shouldn't be here. He responded in a gruff tone. I'm sorry, sir. We're just leaving.

Elaine assured. You've been here a while. I saw you pull up. I've been waiting for you to get back, the mountain man growled. He had been watching us the entire time. At this point I was shitting myself, I was thoroughly convinced that we were going to die. It's private property, he cautioned. No trespassing. I'm really sorry, sir. We'll leave right away. I quickly apologized. It's hunting season, and you two are out here without any orange on at all.

You could get shot dead. I could have shot you." He said, still angry as he leaned closer to the window. He put his fingers over the lip of the window and whispered softly. If I were you, I'd leave now, and I'd never come back. I quickly started the car and replied that we'd be leaving right away, adding that we wouldn't be back any time soon. Likely never.

I put the car in drive and the man took a step back. I slowly began to turn around at the dead end of the gravel road. The man was not moving at all. I actually had to make an effort not to hit him as I was reversing. He just stood there like a statue staring blankly at us. As soon as I turned the car around, I started to slowly pull forward, and the man finally turned around, walked away, and disappeared into the mist. It was at this time I realized not only did he have a rifle on his

back, but he also had a giant machete tucked into his belt. He had a rope tied to his backpack. But the oddest thing that I saw hanging from him was the handcuffs. Elaine and I sped down that hill, trying to talk about what just happened. I haven't told anybody about this encounter, especially not my parents, who would be pissed if they found out that we had been trespassing. I never heard other accounts of people seeing that man up there at the rock, at least not after that. I've been wondering why he was dressed in all camouflage, though.

I also wondered why he advised us to wear orange when he wasn't wearing anything orange himself. Shouldn't he abide by these hunting standards as well? Where did he come from? How did he get up there without a vehicle? Where was he watching us from? Who was he? And why did he have handcuffs? Thinking back on it, the land that we were on was owned by the electric company, so he was trespassing just as much as we were. To this day, Elaine and I won't talk about this creepy encounter. It's almost as if we're worried we're going to summon him accidentally if we're worried we're going to summon him accidentally if we discuss it.

To the creepy camouflage mountain man, if this property really is yours, I won't trespass again and I hope we never meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs that home, your leadership skills and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better.

Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. I used to study in my university's Arbidum, which was positioned between my school and my apartment building. I had to walk through a short trail in the woods to get to my apartment from the grassy area in the Arboridum. It was about a 10-15 minute walk before I could reach the well lit road my complex was on.

One afternoon, while reviewing material for a psychology exam, I lost track of time and suddenly realized how dark it was getting. I hurriedly packed my bag and started down the trail to my apartment. The wooded area was pretty dark, and as a young petite woman I started to get paranoid. I grew up in the woods, so I'm very comfortable in nature, whether it was dark or not, but I'm nervous as I've heard that people will come to the arboretum after dark for nefarious activities, as it's under campus police jurisdiction not the town's PD. Because of this, I came up with a plan.

I went to Audubon Camp as a kid, and we used to do night hikes. On one of these night hikes, I learned that you can see much further in the dark if you let your eyes adjust rather than just using a flashlight. I also figured that if I used my flashlight, it would be a dead giveaway of my location, and would call attention to me. I put my phone in my pocket and let my eyes adjust to the dark. I started walking down the trail slowly, looking into the distance to spot movement, and attentively listening to the sounds around me. Everything seemed fine until I started approaching a curve in the path.

About 60 feet in front of me, I could vaguely make out a human-like shape in the trees. I wasn't sure so I slowly walked forward, watching for movement from the form in front of me. But I saw nothing. I kept my foot steps quiet, which was another Audemon camp skill, and I got about ten feet away from the shape in front of me, and I realized that I was right. It was absolutely a human. A man was crouching on the side of the trail, dressed completely in black, holding a bike

next to him and hiding his face from me. Thankfully, I learned that I'm good in this type of scenario. I took out my phone, turned on the flashlight, shown the light on him, and loudly said, I see you, don't move, and don't follow me. I slowly walked by him. I never took my gaze off of him. I got far enough away, and I took off running to my building once there was enough distance between us. The whole time I watched him, though.

He never moved a muscle, and continued to sit, squatting completely still almost like a statue. Once inside my apartment, all my panic feelings burst out, and I sat down crying and explaining what happened to my roommates. We called the campus police, but by the time they got there, the man in black was long gone. I never ran into him again, and I'm very proud of myself for how I reacted to a creepy situation. I feel like I also should thank my Audubon camp counselor for what they taught me, as it helped me to keep my shit together and remain safe that day. But to that weird man wearing all black, crouching in the woods and covering his face, let's never meet again.

This happened 11 years ago, in 2012. It was the summer after my senior year of high school. I used to hike down to the end of my road. My family lived pretty far out in the middle of nowhere in South Carolina. At the end of the road, the county had attempted to build something, but they gave up after laying the foundation. Rusted Rebar was slowly being absorbed by the forest with each passing year. Past that, there was a path that led to a river. If you followed this path for a couple hundred yards, you'd go down a hill and come out to a secluded riverbank. It was a bit of a journey to get there, but this was a great place to unwind. I wasn't a super social kid, so it was a really great place for me to get away for a few

hours at least. It was a very private place. Or so I thought. Sometimes there would be evidence that other people had been there. I'd see ashes from bonfires and empty beer cans or liquor bottles. Sometimes it seemed like the place had a completely different life when I wasn't there. One day, in the afternoon, I started the journey to the riverbank. I was out there later in the day then normally, because I thought that it would be fun to see

the sunset. As I passed the rusted rebar from the foundation of the unfinished building, I remember getting an odd feeling like I was being watched. I figured I was just being paranoid. It was really easy for me to spook myself into feeling that way when I was alone in the woods. There was this giant truck that was parked there, but that wasn't exactly uncommon. This area was a great place to hike hunt and fish. I didn't see anybody around, but my kept going.

When I got to the river, I took my clothes off to swim. I wasn't skinny dipping. I wore bikini swim briefs underneath my clothes that would dry really fast. This came in handy because I was terrible at packing for swim trips. Most times I would even forget to bring a towel with me. After my first swim in the river, I came back onto the river bank and laid out in the sun. It was still an hour or two before the sun was supposed to set, but I got that feeling that I was being watched again. I felt vulnerable, so I looked around, and then I saw him. Standing at the

trailhead maybe twenty yards away was this old guy with a ponytail and a grungy-looking pharaoh beard. He was just staring at me. His clothes were dirty and ratted, and he looked terrible. I could tell that he didn't smell any better than he looked. I was pretty on edge as soon as I saw him because he didn't announce himself or acknowledge me or anything. He just continued staring. At first, I thought maybe he owned the land, and I felt awkward saying something to a dude

while wearing a speedo on his land, but as far as I knew, this place wasn't private property. I raised my hand and waved. I didn't really want to make friends with him, but I didn't want to be polite either. He kept staring. It was almost as if he couldn't see me even though he was looking right at me. I kind of shifted up on the riverbank to make sure that he was looking at me, or at least to let him know that I could see him since he didn't react to my wave. Then he laughed out loud, and this creepy, high-pitched voice, and started saying something to somebody nearby. I sat up and watched as he kept talking. He started

getting angry, like he was in a very heated argument, but it didn't look like anybody was with him. He was just having this intense conversation with himself. He went back into the woods, still talking to himself. Then, I heard his high-pitched, creepy laugh again, but this time it sounded like he was heading away from me. I was a little bit more than creeped out at this point, but I figured I would let it slide, which was my first mistake.

Some time later, just before sunset, I went back into the water for another swim. This was the worst thing I could have done. This freak must have been watching me from somewhere in the woods because when I got out of the river, my clothes were gone. I was sufficiently freaked out. This dirty old man really just steal my clothes. I hadn't brought my wallet, phone, or anything else of value. It was just my clothes, but seriously, what the fuck, dude?

I looked around for a little while, thinking maybe he had just thrown my clothes into the forest just to fuck with me. I also didn't want to step on something sharp or get bit by something or catch poison ivy. I didn't go very deep into the forest before I heard that stupid, creepy high-pitched laugh again. I almost jumped out of my skin. I turned back to the riverbank, and there he was, right where I had been laying. He was staring at me with this dumb, open mouthed smile on his face. I really like your panties. He said, as he started making these absurd moaning noises. That was it for me. I was done. I ran back toward the trail and

nothing but my swimsuit. Hearing nothing but that creepy, high-pitched laugh. I was happy to hear it because I knew that as long as I kept hearing that dumbass laugh in the distance behind me, it meant that he wasn't anywhere near me. As I passed the Rusted Out Foundation at the opening of the trail, that giant truck was still parked there. I should have gotten the license plate, but I was too focused on getting the fuck out of there. I felt a lot calmer when I was out on the street, but I still had this paranoid feeling that

he knew where I was and at any moment, he would come roaring down the street in that truck to try and do God knows what to me. I nearly dove into the woods. When I heard a car coming up behind me, but thankfully, it was just some girls. They honked and whistled as they drove by laughing. I didn't weigh them down for help or anything because I was really close to home, and the girls didn't seem like they would be very helpful anyway. I would have been embarrassed had I not been in survival mode. I got home without anyone seeing me and haven't told anybody about this until now. It makes me wonder how crazy people can be when they feel like they're able to get away with acting the way that they do. It was the last time I ever went to that riverbank.

So to the creepy old man in the woods who decided to steal my clothes, ruin my plans to watch the sunset, and planned to do God knows what to me. Let's never meet again. Fresh produce is the best produce. That's why at Crogr, we invest in local farmers to bring you the freshest seasonal picks. So no matter how you shop, your local produce always tastes 100% fresh. Or you get a 100% refund. Guaranteed. Croger. Fresh.

For everyone. Save big on your favorites with the Buy 5 or more Save a Dollar each sale. Simply buy 5 or more participating items and save a dollar each with your card. Croger. Fresh. For everyone. Some time ago, when I was 15 or 16, I worked at a dairy queen. The store that I worked at was located on a street where taxis were always back and forth,

so I never had to call for a cab. I could just step outside, wait for one to drive by and hail it. My parents didn't drive, so we had a deal where they would pay for half my cab fare. Whenever I worked the closing shift, which ended at midnight or later depending on how long it took us to clean up, my coworker who lived right next door to the store would wait with me on the picnic tables out in front until I was able to hail a cab. Late one night while sitting at the picnic table, I noticed a car driving by us. It seemed to slow down but kept going.

I don't know what made me notice it, but I did. Anyway, a taxi came by shortly after and I hailed it. My coworker assumed that I had gotten into a cab left and went home. I told the taxi driver where I wanted to go, but he said that he wasn't going that way, so I went back to the picnic tables by myself. I wasn't too concerned because, like I said, taxis were driving up and down the street all the time. While I was waiting, the car that I had clocked earlier came around the corner and pulled into the parking lot. Then the driver

got out of the car and started walking toward me. To this day, I do not know why I didn't just run to my friend's house. The guy who got out of the car said it's kind of cold tonight, isn't it? It wasn't, but I just agreed, and he said, it's kind of lonely too. Q. Enter a freak out. He went on to say, God told me to stop and talk to you. At this point, I saw another taxi pulling to the parking lot across the street. I didn't even say anything to the man, and instead just started walking toward the cab parked across the street. The creep then said, I can give you a ride.

I said, no, that's okay. To which he replied, I love you. I sprinted for that cab, probably breaking world records. I swear. I jumped in the back seat of the cab and asked the driver if he was working and if he could drive me home. The cab driver could tell that I was freaked out, but he got me home safely. I was so afraid that the creep would follow us.

Well, after this incident, I called for a cab every single time I worked late and waited inside the store until the cab arrived. After I got my license in a car, when I worked late with other girls who had to wait for a ride, I waited with them inside the store or gave them a ride home myself. If they argued, I would tell them my story. To the creep who approached me in the parking lot of the dairy queen, I don't love you. And let's not meet. This story happened in 2019. I was working as a scare actor in a haunted house.

My job was to be assigned to a room or area of the haunted house, dress up in a costume, and scare people as they walked through the attraction. I was alone for most of the night, but occasionally other crew members came through and costume to relieve me for a break, or to make sure that folks were moving through the haunted house efficiently. The house itself was themed after a haunted morgue, complete with odd-topsy rooms and meatlockers. My room was one of the first rooms guests would enter, and it would be shaped kind of like an L. I would be in the longer part of the

L and the shorter part was a connecting hallway to another room. This particular hallway was decorated as one of the meat lockers, with mannequins hanging and body bags from the ceiling. There were strips of vinyl shading that closed off one part of the L from the other, so that when you were in the hallway, you couldn't see the guests that were in the other part of the room. Since it was late in the season, I had completely blown out my vocal cords to the point where the only sound that I could produce was a spooky ghoul voice that my haunted house character

spoken. On this particular night, it was close to closing time. We had seen over 1,500 people that night already, and obviously I was getting tired. I pushed through the fatigue that I was feeling in my legs and back for the last few groups, clinging to the image of a hot bath and a big meal that was waiting for me at home. A crew member came through and pulled me aside. This next group is pretty ratty, so just look out. He cautioned, as he pulled his monster mask back down over his face. I nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

I had dealt with rowdy, scared, angry, and drunk people all evening, so I thought that this would be no problem. I heard this rowdy group that I was warned about before I even saw them. It was a group of maybe five or six of the biggest college-aged dudes that I had ever seen. They were with girls and had obviously been drinking. I started my little scare spiel when one of the dudes lost it. Now I'm a five-six female and at the time I only weighed 115 pounds. As I would later find out from another co-worker who was also harassed by this group, the dude who lost it was the quarterback for

a college football team. He screamed a mere inches from my face. I'm not fucking scared of you. My eyes literally burned from the vodka in his breath. He continued to repeat, I'm not scared of you, I'm not scared of you. While nearly head-butting me, his friends behind him yelled at him to back up and leave me alone. That's when he grabbed my neck and pulled me into the hallway part of the L-shaped room. He threw me against the wall, still holding my throat. He threw me so hard I saw stars. He said, I'm going to fucking kill you, in a tone so low and gutterable that it told me he absolutely would if given the chance.

I couldn't scream or even call for help as I stared into this huge dude's glazed over darkened eyes. I moutved. I m sorry to him while straining to take a breath. And then he pulled backward. I looked to see my coworker who warned me about this group. He had a security guard with him who promptly restrained this huge guy. The rest of the group piled out of the haunted house behind their friend clearly embarrassed. They were all obviously kicked out and I was taken to the outbreak room to talk to the owner. When I got there I saw another scare actor holding a napkin to her face. This

dude had apparently punched her so hard that she was bleeding and had a minor concussion. So to the quarterback of a certain college, you're a fucking weeny baby, and I hope you never mix haunts and alcohol again. Please, let's never meet. At Croger, you can find the highest quality products at a great price in every aisle, every day with Croger brand. So you can stock up on your household favorites that are tried, tested, and loved by you. Because when you get the products you love at great prices, it feels like winning.

Shop now in store or online. Kroger, fresh for everyone. Sample in the best! Sample in the best! Sample in the best! Better than all the rest! Don't forget to stick around after the music for your extended, ad-free version of Let's Not Eat A True Horror Podcast, and if you want to get access, make sure you head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Eat Podcast to sign up and support the show today.

This week you will have heard Creepy Story from 1990 by Breezy, The Basement Bathroom by Emily, The Aggressive Good Samaritan by Gracie, Creepy Camouflaged Mountain Man by Lily, Man in the Woods by Halley, Stalked by the River by Simon, Dairy Queen Creep by Umbrage, Shenanigans. And finally, I scared a sports star by Gracie. 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. As always, if you have a story to share, send it on over to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.

And please don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, Welcome to Paradise It sucks, and the old time radiocasts over at crypticcountypodcasts.com or just search wherever you get your podcasts. I'll see you all next week. Stay safe. When you download the Croger app, you have easy access to savings every day. Shop weekly sales and get personalized coupons to get the most value out of every trip every time, whether you shop in-store or online. Download the Kroger app now to save big. Kroger, fresh for everyone, must have a digital

account to redeem offers. Restrictions may apply, see site for details. Save big on your favorites with the Buy, Fiver more, save a dollar each sale. Simply buy five or more participating items and save a dollar each with your card. Kroger, fresh for everyone. You're already there hero, but if you want to take it to the next level, turn up bull loose in your backyard. Bull Outdoor can help you design, build, then deliver the outdoor kitchen of your dreams. Think of all the fun you'll have. Grills, pizza ovens, sinks, ice chests, refrigerators, and more.

All designed to last a lifetime. Start customizing now at bullbibikew.com. That's bullbibikew.com. And turn a bull loose in your backyard.