Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 10x07: Vacation Creepers - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: March 27, 2023

Stories in this episode: - Wrong Number Nate, by Mae (0:50) - A Close Call, by iheartwienerdogs (8:37) - Stalked at 17, by Anonymous (14:45) - Vacation Creepers, by Rebecca (21:04) - Adrian, by Anonymous (29:22) - Woman's Best Friend, by Erin (35:26) - Restaurant Creeper, by ilva (41:35) - My Outspoken "Ex Green Beret" Hippie Neighbor, by Anonymous (45:26) Extended Patreon Content: - A Short Walk Home by Joss - The Lost Keys, by Emma - Eli from Homeroom, by HM - I Was Almost Harvested, by Kerijon Join me at twitch.tv/crypticcounty if you dare! 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! Check out Love & Pies, free to download in the App Store or Google Play today! Listen now to High Strange, available wherever you listen to your podcasts, and get an exclusive binge when you subscribe to Tenderfoot Plus. 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/  - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty  

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This podcast contains adult language and content. If you have a story to share, send it to My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 10 episode 7 of Let's Not Meet a bit of backstory. My parents divorced when I was a baby. My mother was given primary custody with my dad getting every other week and holiday visitation. My dad hated my mom because of this, and never missed an opportunity to criticize and blame her for everything wrong with his parenting abilities when I was with him. Also, my dad was the biggest racist that I had ever been around. The reason I mentioned these things is that for a mommy's girl, whose best friend was Hispanic, I never felt like my dad accepted me, and therefore never unconditionally loved

me, because I was incapable of sharing his hatred. Finally, I've always been overweight even bordering obesity back then. So to pair that with my daddy issues, my self-confidence at this point of my life was practically non-existent. Boys didn't notice me, and without male validation, I felt invisible and insignificant. Unfortunately, that problem carried into adulthood, but I digress. This event took place 17 years ago during the summer of 2005 when I was 13. At the beginning of the summer, my mom and I had moved from a cramped house that my mom was renting. To my grandparents, slightly larger house, as my grandpa had recently passed, and my grandma had been moved to a long-term care facility due to Alzheimer's.

This meant that I was going from sharing a bedroom and bed with my mother to my own personal bedroom. Not only did I finally have some privacy, but also, since my mother was no longer struggling to pay rent, I finally got a cell phone. It was an Okea brick phone, the kind that was only capable of calling or texting and playing snake. It doesn't sound like much at the time, but it was the peak of cool. I was finally starting to feel like a regular teenager.

Late into the summer, just before school was about to start, I received a couple of calls from random numbers. These days I never answer numbers if I don't recognize them, but back then I didn't have that many contacts saved in my phone, so I always answered, thinking that it could be one of my friends. Apparently my number or a number very similar to mine was listed on a Craigslist ad by a person trying to sell their birds. Two random callers, one a man and then one a woman, they called asking about the birds. Once I told them that they must have the wrong number, they apologized

and hung up. But as they say, they're times the charm. When I told the third bird seeking caller, a guy who will call Nate, that he must have the wrong number, instead of apologizing and hanging up, Nate asked for my name and how old I was. At this point, I obviously should have hung up, but I was young, naive, and even too shy to risk being seen as rude, so I told him my name and told him that I was 13. I remember he said that I sounded very mature for my age, which was something I always liked hearing. So I decided it was okay to chat with this man at least for a little bit, because clearly, I thought I was mature enough to chit chat with a strange adult.

I can't remember the specifics of our conversation, but I do know that he didn't ask anything inappropriate, at least not right off the bat. I do remember that once I told him I had to go since my mom was finishing up dinner, he asked if it would be okay if he called again the next day. Deep down, I knew I should not be talking to this man. But I told him yes. A man was finally paying attention to me. He wanted to talk to me.

So I guess it was exciting. The next day when Nate called me, his tone was very different. Instead of sounding like a regular guy, his voice was higher pitched, and he was talking to me like I was a little girl. If you've ever watched an episode of Tecacher Predator and heard the clips of the disgusting voicemails left by those so-called men, you know the tone I'm referencing. He greeted me by calling me baby, and to this day when I think of him calling me baby, and that fucking ridiculous baby talk tone, it makes my skin

crawl. I was extremely uncomfortable at this point, but I didn't want to make him mad by telling him that. After all, there was still this part of me that needed him to want to talk to me, so we talked again. I am so thankful that I don't remember the details of any of these conversations. This friendship only lasted a few days, then the star is aligned, or some god intervened, or just by complete coincidence, I don't fucking know, my mom changed cell phone providers to something more affordable. Back then when you changed providers, you couldn't keep your number, or even the same phone. So before I knew it, I was going through

my old phone's contacts and adding them to my new phone when I came across Nate's number. I hesitated for a moment. That pathetic, insecure voice in my head was telling me that no other guys were going to want to talk to me, so I should give him my number. However, that little voice was crushed by a wave of relief when I realized that this was actually a great out for me. He would never be able to contact me again, and I didn't have to be confrontational to achieve that. It was perfect. So I quickly deleted Nate's number from my old phone just to be safe, and I never heard from him again. I'd be so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here.

I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here.

I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here.

I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. I'm so happy to be here. speaking with a 13 year old girl and calling me baby, he was preparing for the long game. Had I not cut off contact, I believe that he would have continued speaking to me that way until I agreed to meet him. Maybe you're listening to this and thinking that I couldn't know that for sure, but please believe me when I say I know what a grown man who wants to meet and take advantage of a young teen girl sounds like. The final reason I share this story is that I know there are many people out there who feel shame because of the things adults convinced them to do as children.

Maybe you were like me as well, doing things to gain approval or validation to feel some void that a parent left. I'm here to remind you that, regardless of your willingness, you were a child. No matter how mature or smart of a child you were, you were still too young to fully understand people's motives or the sinister nature lurking behind those motives. Wanting to be accepted and loved for who you are does not give an adult the right to take advantage of you for their own desires. I see you, I understand you, I'll never judge you and most importantly it's not your fault.

This unfortunately was not the last of me blindly encountering creeps as a young teen. Thank you, internet. But this sticks out in my mind as the first encounter with a creep. So finally, to Nate, the birdseeker, I hope Karma gave you the worst of what you deserve, but even if it didn't, let's never meet. This happened when I was 13 years old. My family and I lived in Western Oklahoma at the time, and it was the mid 80s. We lived in a townhouse. R's was the second from the complex entrance. I babysat for a family that lived in the last townhouse. There were seven townhouses between us.

This is important. It was the last day of school for the year, and I had to go to school with my mom to pick up my grade cards. Just before we left, the phone rang. It was a man who said that he was the father of the family that I babysat for, but it didn't sound like him. Also, this family had never asked me to babysit during the day, since they had daycare. I told him I could maybe babysit later, but that we had an appointment at school. He got very angry and shouted, come over now. I was distraught, so my mom took the phone, told him that I was not coming over and hung up on him. We got into the car and realized their cars were gone and their home was dark.

Later, we saw the father's car pull into their driveway. I called to ask him if he called me that morning. Of course, he said no, and stated what I already knew. The kids had daycare. I told him what happened, and he said again that it wasn't him. And I believed him. We set up a time for me to babysit over the weekend, and the evening passed unaventfully.

The next day started just fine. Late in the morning, I took some trash out and just a few minutes later the phone rang. It was the same unfamiliar voice from the previous day. He commented that the shirt I was wearing was very flattering. Unfortunately, I developed early and I felt very self-conscious about it, so this phone call did not help. My dad, at the time, had a job that took him out of town several days a week, which left me feeling scared all of the time.

I never went anywhere alone, not that I wanted to. The creepy caller would even say things to my mom because I stopped answering the phone. He would call several times a day. We finally contacted the police. An officer came out and we started to tell him everything that was going on. He didn't even have to think about it and he insisted that it must have actually been a guy that lived three doors down that was making these calls to us. The officer told my mom not to let me go outside alone, and he said that he would take care

of this neighbor. The man was not home at the time, but the officer said that he would find him. That night, at about 11 p.m., there was a loud pounding on the door. My dad was home, which the guy who lived three doors down wasn't expecting, so he backed off at first. My dad waited for the guy to re-approach the door, then racked the shotgun. The guy hauled through the door. I didn't do anything." He sounded very belligerent, but when my dad finally opened the door, his attitude was much more respectful. He told my dad that it wasn't him making the calls and claimed that he would never do anything

like that. What's funny though, is that the call stopped that night. In retrospect, I believe he must have been some kind of registered offender. The officer who talked to my mom and I knew about him before we even finished telling our story. This guy was a big bodybuilder type. He had no living room furniture. He had weightlifting equipment furnishing his home instead. Over the years, I've thought, what would have happened if I had left that house alone that day?

I don't know. I can still hear the creepy caller's voice in my head, so insistent that I leave my house right away to come over to him, and then get so angry when I didn't. So to the big, bodybuilding coward who was happily terrifying, un niño, pero se afuera cuando ha estado con un igual o menos de un chocón. ¡Vamos a ver, ¡vamos! Las comunidades negras e ispanas se vende especcionalmente 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 falsifórmas. Visite Ruby-SECD-Stary.com para obtener más información sobre una opción de tratamiento en investigación para la enfermedad de células falsifórmes. El estudio ahora está recrutando personas de 18 a 50 años en Dallas. Visite Ruby-SECD-Stary.com first time when I had just turned 17. I had gone through a breakup and I was trying to find some sort of happiness. An 18-year-old who will call Josh for privacy reasons followed me on social media. He messaged me asking if I had Snapchat. Not thinking much of it, I told him yeah, as his bio stated that he went to a different high school in the same district as me. Some of my friends were also following him, so I thought I was about to make a new friend,

which was exciting because I needed a distraction from the breakup. After a while, we found some time to hang out. I picked him up because he didn't have his driver's license for some reason, even though he was 18, almost 19. He had no reason not to get one. He just said that he didn't have time to get one. The whole time we hung out, he was oddly quiet. He never spoke unless I initiated the conversation. He would end conversations quickly with one word answers. I thought it was kind of weird at first, but I gave him a chance

and I told myself that he was probably just nervous. We hung out a second time and he acted just the same. The vibes that I got from him were just off, so I slowly began to stop talking to him, as I didn't want to get myself into something difficult to get out of. Josh realized that I wasn't texting him as much as I used to. He questioned it, and I told him I was just too busy. He somehow started to manipulate my mind a bit. An example of this manipulation was his sudden interest in things that I loved.

He bought T-shirts with bands that I adored on them, claiming a sudden passion for these bands. My dumb teenage yourself began texting him again. We soon got into the talking phase, which is that awkward phase right before you make a relationship official. Everything was going fine until two random guys started to follow me on Instagram and messaged me. They informed me that Josh was talking to other girls. I asked Josh about this and he obviously denied it, however, I tried to end things with him because it was just getting too weird. He started being rude so I blocked him on Snapchat. He realized this and tried

to continue the conversation on Instagram, but I blocked him there as well since I didn't need any more negativity in my life. A few hours later I got a call from somebody with no caller ID. I declined the call, but they continued to call over and over again. I finally answered. I could not recognize the voice, but the caller knew who I was. Later I found out that it was one of Josh's friends that direct messaged me before. His friend was calling me names and trying to get into my head. I ended the call and went on with my day. A few days later, I got a text from Josh saying that, I just want to let you know that I miss you and I'm going to be

transferring to your school." I texted back asking him why. He said, I just want to be close to you. I want to fix what I've done, and I want to be able to see you every day. I asked him to leave me alone, but he didn't respond. Later that day, once I got home from school, I got a call from a number that I didn't have saved on my phone. I didn't answer it, but I texted the number and asked who it was.

The person responded with a name that I actually knew. We'll call the guy Dylan. I asked Dylan why he called me, and he told me that he didn't. He didn't have my number saved in his phone which meant there was no way he could contact me through his phone number. The next day when I was in a class with Dylan, I had the instinct to ask him if he knew Josh. Dylan said yes and told me that they were somewhat close. We later figured out that somehow Josh was able to change his number to appear as Dylan's

number to call me. I'm not sure how Josh knew that I knew Dylan and I'm also not sure how he was able to contact me that way. Dylan told me that Josh would text him and ask him how I was doing every single day during the class Dylan and I had together. Dylan thought that it was very odd because neither of us ever told Josh that we had this class together. I blocked Josh on everything that I possibly could that day. A year later, I moved to a new town out in the middle of nowhere and pretty much had forgotten all about Josh. That was until my friends sent me a screenshot of something Josh had posted. It was him, driving around the small town that I now lived in.

On the exact county road I lived on. Sometime around the day that my friends sent that screenshot of Josh's post, there was an incident at my home. Someone put a phone camera up to my bathroom window. I called the cops, but they couldn't find anyone suspicious after doing a perimeter search in the area. I noticed in the screenshot I was sent, Josh was driving a specific type of truck. My very small neighborhood has a Facebook page where there are frequent posts about a truck that drives by slowly, up down the road that I live on at odd times of the day.

Coincidentally, the truck from these posts is the exact same truck as the one Josh drives. I haven't seen him since. So Josh, if you're listening, I hope we never meet again. A friend of mine and I traveled to Athens, Greece to escort my daughter to a dance event. We were exploring the beautiful city while she was attending her workshops and decided to go to a popular landmark, Mount LeCapitas, where the view over Athens is incredible. Someone had recommended that we go view the sunset at the lookout point, so that's what we did. There were plenty of people around, so it felt very safe to be there as two women alone. We decided to head out before it got too dark when we noticed that there was another way

to go up or down the hill from which we came. From the top, it looked well lit, so being the adventurous people we were, we decided to go the different way back down the hill. We set off walking the new path, and we were deep in conversation. We had been walking for a while before we realized how dark it had become. All the lights were at the top, with none illuminating the pathway down the hill. I switched on the flashlight on my phone, which only had a 12% charge at this point. We also noticed that the big crowd that was at the lookout point had disappeared, so

we were completely alone. We were pretty spooked by this, not helped by the fact that Athens has a pretty major stray cat problem. There were cat fights and growls coming from the dark bushes everywhere around us. The path was bending down the hill, and it was covered with trees and bushes, obstructing our view. We stopped for a minute to catch our breath and take a photo, when we noticed a man around his late 20s. He was watching us and standing just a little too close. I was very perceptive of this and I quickly ushered my friend back on the path while saying, come on,

our husbands are waiting, hoping that the man knew English. He began walking right behind us. He picked up his pace when we started to walk faster. He was close enough to hear the conversations we were having. We could hear him breathing. When we got to the lookout area, I pulled my friend aside to allow this guy to pass. He hesitated, but then continued on the path while we pretended to make a phone call. It was at this point that I realized that my phone was about to go dead, and nobody knew where we were at that time. Once we felt that the creepy guy was far enough ahead of us, we started down the path.

About five minutes along the path, suddenly, the creepy man was back behind us, again, despite passing us before. He must have hidden the bushes and waited for us. Every hair on my skin stood up and fight or flight mode kicked in. We picked up our pace until we caught up to another couple ahead of us who we made small talk with. It was only then that the creepy guy backed off. Once we realized this, we bolted ahead to the end of the pathway and back into civilization. I have no doubt that he had sinister intentions. After making it back down the hill, I have never been so happy to see an Uber driver in my life. On the same trip and Rome, we experienced another encounter. While waiting for our train,

my friend and I noticed a guy around 50 years old, learing at my 12-year-old daughter. The filthy looks we gave him didn't seem to deter him, and when we stepped closer to shield her, he simply shifted his gaze to us. He walked around us, sizing us up, leering at my daughter, and looking at our belongings. He was incredibly creepy, so we moved to a different area on the platform away from him, which again didn't deter him. He followed us, creeping even closer. So we moved to another area, away from him, which only yielded the same results he followed us, the whole time leering and looking at my daughter up and down. I was obviously already incredibly protective of my daughter, as was my friend, who also

has two daughters back at home in Australia, but my mama bear instincts kicked in as we continued to shield her. The train we were waiting for finally arrived. We hesitated to board, giving him a chance to get on first so that we could avoid whichever carriage he was getting on. He paused, doing the same, watching and waiting for us to board. He finally gave in and boarded first, so we shifted from our current area and boarded on a separate carriage, far from us. We took our seats, feeling relieved, assuming that our creeper was gone. Boy were we wrong.

I looked ahead down the aisle and saw him wandering through the carriage ahead of us, looking into every seat that he wandered around. He was now looking for us. Then he found us. I was shaking from fear and anger. He proceeded to take the empty seat behind my daughter and I. The train pulled up at the next stop and my friend jumped up and said, this is our stop, even though it wasn't. We stood in the standing area ready to disembark the train. He followed us. When the train stopped, there was a flurry of people exiting the train. He hesitated waiting for us to move, a flurry of people exiting the train. He hesitated, waiting for us to move, but with all the people around he had no choice but to get out of the way. He was ushered off of the train

with everyone while we managed to stay on board. When the doors closed, he tried to get back on but it was too late. I'll never forget to look in his eyes as the train took off with us on it and him standing on the platform. It'll forever haunt me. So creepy guy and Athens, let's not meet and creepy train guy and Rome. Don't ever fucking look at my daughter or I'll fucking end you. 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 hone 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. My family and I lived in a relatively quiet suburban neighborhood for five years, starting

when I was five years old. Our neighbor, Adrian, was high on something, most of the time. She had two daughters that I would occasionally go see, and my parents made themselves interact with her, being the kind neighbors that they were, considering that she probably had a few screws loose. I remember several instances when Adrienne got herself into predicaments that were stupid to say the least. Like the time she was cleaning the kitty-pull, she mixed bleach and ammonia, and she unintentionally

mustered gasped herself. When this happened, she came knocking on our door, nauseous and coughing up a storm, convinced that my father, who was a salesman at the time, knew what to do in this situation. My dad just ended up driving her to the ER when she attempted to blindly go to her car as she choked out, I can drive, don't worry. Another time I remember being asleep in my bed around 9pm, when I heard Adrian's daughter screaming in pain after taking a fall down the stairs. Adrian arrived on our doorstep with her daughter shortly after, and drunkenly shouted,

is her arm broken?" My dad was no medical expert, but her arm was hanging at this awkward angle, so he said that it was most likely broken. My dad not wanting Adrian to drive drunk, drove them to the ER while my mom stayed home with me in my siblings. Adrian was just that type of neighbor. I forgot to mention Adrian's husband would take these long trips for work, likely on purpose. He would be gone for days, or even weeks

at a time. Now that I've given you a glimpse of what five years of being her neighbor looked like, I'll set the scene for what would be the last straw with my parents. It was my eighth birthday, and my parents had rented a small bouncy slide, and they put a hose on it to resemble a water slide. I had invited a few friends from around the block, and my parents made me invite Adrian's children because they'd be held to pay if her kids weren't invited to my party. I noticed one of Adrienne's daughters peed on my water slide, and eight-year-old me was not having it. I exclaimed to my mom, my friend's parents, and Adrienne, that her daughter had peed on my slide. Adrienne left with her kids, pissed

off and embarrassed. Adrienne returned a while later and tried to get my mom to apologize, but my mom simply said that I was only eight and I was just a kid. My mom however apologized for her embarrassment, but that's all that she could do. Adrian left my house, pissed off once again. My mom watched Adrian go back to her house. She slammed the door to her house so hard I could hear it from across the street. My mom called me over to the window and pointed out that my bike was sitting in her driveway. She advised me to go get it before Adrienne desecrated it.

When I stepped onto the sidewalk that was connected to our porch, my mom stopped me, panicked, and pulled me inside slamming the door behind her. She yelled for me to get my two brothers and hide in her room in the back of the house. I remember crying and being really afraid because my mom didn't just freak out like that over nothing. The first thing my mom did was call my dad, who was just starting a new job and was in the car with his brand new bus. My mom's voice blared through the speakers of his car.

Adrian has a gun pointed at our house. My dad immediately switched to his phone instead of using speakerphone in his car and asked her to end the call with him in dial 911. As my mom dialed 911, I suddenly heard a loud pop, glass shattering, and then my mom screaming. I remember hearing my mom's voice clear as day. She hit the car, she hit our car, oh my god. The 911 operator told my mom that the police would be there any minute, and she asked my mom to stay on the line and keep talking with her. I don't remember when the police came, but Adrian tried to hide behind the bushes in

her backyard and tossed her rifle over the fence into her neighbor's yard. She was caught and pleaded with my parents to not press charges. But they did. Eventually, Adrian's husband came back from a work trip and took care of the kids while Adrian was in jail. He didn't bail her out, and she served a month or so. My parents got our car fixed at the expense of Adrian's husband. My mom later told me that when she sent me to get my bike,

as I was leaving, Adrian rounded the corner of her front yard with the shotgun and started to point it at me. When my mom yanked me into the house, she started pointing it at the house and then our car. Adrian could have easily killed me. My dad has since driven through that neighborhood, curious to know if she's still lived there. She does, and even though we don't live across the street from her anymore, that's just too close for me. We're living a few towns over now.

Adrian, I hope that your daughters are okay, and I feel sorry that they had to grow up with you, not being sober most of the time. I hope you got help, and I hope you're not allowed to buy any guns to shoot eight-year-olds with. Adrian, let's not meet. 8 years ago when my husband and I were first married, we were driving up the East Coast of the US. He had been stationed at a military base in Georgia and was getting ready to relocate somewhere that wouldn't allow him to bring family with him. So we were driving both of our vehicles, some belongings, and our dog back up to his hometown where I would be living.

We decided that rather than take I-95 all the way up, we would hop on 84 and bypass the big hubs like DC and NYC, cutting across Pennsylvania instead. While this saves on traffic and tolls, it doesn't necessarily save on time, so we were looking at a hefty drive over two days. Luckily for us, our dog loves to ride in the car and was very happy to enjoy his time on the road. His name is Cooper, and he's an 80-pound shepherd lab mix who is very smart, but naughty, and we adore him completely. In fact, to add to these points frequently during

these road trips, when we stopped at hotels, Cooper would pretend to need to go to the bathroom, but he really just wants to be taken out of the car. One day, with most of our driving done, we were nearing the end of our journey in Pennsylvania. The sun was starting to set, but it was still light out, and the automatic street lamps were on, giving extra illumination. We stopped for gas to try and power through most of the night, and pulled off into a quiet and empty gas station. My husband was driving his old pickup, and I was driving our new SUV with Cooper. My husband had pulled ahead of me, and he was at the hose on the left side of the pumps

while I was on the right. I was tired and thinking about going inside for a drink. We had a good system at this point. I bought the snacks and he pumped the gas. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened my car door to get out while turning towards the passenger seat to grab my wallet from my purse. Suddenly, I was pinned against the driver's seat. It took a few seconds to see that our dog had come from the back to stand over my lap and was now angrily barking.

I was so flustered, trying to free my arms to grab his collar. When I turned to the driver's side door, I visibly recoiled, as there was a strange man standing at my open door. He was so close to me that I could perfectly make out his eye color, as well as his acne scars, even smell his axe deodorant, Phoenix, to be exact. He backed up somewhat in fear of Cooper, who was unhinged, hackles raised, and mouth foaming in between growls and barks. The stranger made eye contact with me, and asked nervously, is your dog friendly?

I just wanted to ask you a question. I was in shock. Where did this guy come from? There was no one at the gas station when we pulled in. When did he approach my car? I hadn't heard a thing outside and the engine was off. The only two cars that were there were mine and my husbands. The sound from Cooper had alerted my husband, who came running over. My husband shut my car door and interrogated the man. The dog was still barking and my husband found out that the man wanted to see if I needed help. The man left us and the dog settled down when he was no longer in sight. The man left us and the dog settled down when he was no longer in sight. Now, I have no clue where that man went.

We reported him to the gas station attendance, and our good boy got some gas station fries and a special treat. Now, when you're driving, never open your car door until you've looked around and you're ready to get out, and when in doubt, travel with your dog. To the stranger at the Rural Gas Station in Pennsylvania, let's not meet, although Cooper might jump at the chance. I get a little obsessive about supporting my local community. I buy local produce, local toothpaste, yeah trampolines, artisanal cap toys, I'm just a local gal.

That's why I was so excited to learn that banking with a local community bank supports local businesses every day. I can finally stop thinking about it, so I'm celebrating with a staycation and some local peanut brittle. Yum! Bank with a community bank and help your community grow. Find yours at banklocally.org. This happened to me around 10 years ago.

I was 16 years old, and I went to a restaurant with my boyfriend at the time and two of our friends. It was pretty late when we got there. It was about 10 pm and they closed at 11 pm. It was a Tuesday night so not many people were there and the parking lot was pretty empty. While I'd dinner, I noticed my boyfriend was texting another girl on his phone and it sent me into a rage. I confronted him and he told me to mine my own business. He said that she was just a friend and told me to get over it. I clearly shouldn't have been with this guy, but I was in love and I didn't see the red flags yet. I became very upset, and I stormed out of the restaurant

hoping that he would follow me outside, but he did not. There was a bench outside of the restaurant, so I sat there and cried. When I looked up and thought about going back inside, I saw a white car slowly pulling up to the front of the restaurant. There was a man in the car smiling at me, waving. I froze. There was nobody else outside. It was just me and this man and the white car. I slowly got up and tried to walk back to the restaurant, but the doors were locked since

it was eleven-fifteen. I didn't even realize what time it was when I stormed out. I turned around to see if the man was still there, and now he was outside of his car, standing on the driver's side, still smiling at me. He proceeded to ask me where I was headed, and I said, no where, I'm eating. He observed, you seem to be having trouble getting back inside, don't you? I didn't say anything. I started pounding and kicking the door. I saw the host and hostess, but they were in a corner further back in the

restaurant cleaning and laughing together so they couldn't see or hear me at the entrance. The guy then said, relax. I can take you home. Come on. At this point, I was crazily calling my boyfriend, but he wasn't answering. I didn't have the numbers for the two friends we were with, because they were more so my boyfriend's friends at the time. I looked behind me again and thought about making a break for the gas station behind the restaurant when the guy, still standing by his white car, said in a stern tone, I said, come on, I'll give you a ride, get in, it's dark, it's late, I can help you. I shakily replied, believe me the fuck alone, you're disgusting. I shakily replied, Believe me the fuck alone, you're disgusting.

I had tears running down my face at this point, and it was clear I was completely shaken up and I was scared. He got back into his car, and he pulled up even closer to the sidewalk and said in a more chipper tone, Come on baby, get in. I don't want to have to grab you. I completely lost it. I started screaming and kicking the door even harder.

A lady was walking out, so the front door finally opened. I bolted into the restaurant and completely broke down. I knew my boyfriend wouldn't care, and I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of our friends, so I cried in the bathroom stall until my boyfriend texted me and told me that it was time to go. When we walked outside to get into my boyfriend's car, I didn't see the white car or the man anywhere. He was gone.

After this, I couldn't sleep for months. I was terrified to go anywhere alone. I told my friends about it, and from that day on, I never went anywhere alone without my friends. And after breaking up with my cheating loser boyfriend, I never went outside of restaurants on any date without my boyfriend and tow. So to the disgusting creep that tried to get me into his car, when I was stranded outside of a restaurant, let's not meet. The story took place back in the early 2000s.

I was 19 and lived with my dad, stepmother, and step sister in a city on the west coast, known for its hippie and drug culture. The neighborhood we lived in especially lived up to the city's reputation. It was full of hippies, offbeat, and quirky people. There was also a large homeless population and all kinds of drugs. I loved to party. It was always interested in meeting with neighbors around me, as to expand the options of places to get drug hookups and hang out. I'm shy and have social anxiety, but drugs and alcohol provided me with the crutch to get past my issues at the time. I don't recommend this as a healthy means to deal with shyness and anxiety, but

that's just where I was at back then. I had also been working on trying to speak up for myself more as I was often targeted for sexual harassment and unwanted attention, but I didn't always choose my battles wisely, as my story will demonstrate. One day I was leaving a local grocery store with my stepmother and recognized a car in the parking lot as one belonging to a neighbor. Somebody about a few doors down from my house. It was an old Volkswagen bus covered in bumper stickers about environmental and social justice issues, a fairly ubiquitous sight in my town.

As we walked by the bus, I looked out the driver's side window, and I saw a man looking back at me. The window was open, and I smiled at him, thinking perhaps he would be cool because of his hippie bus. He appeared to be in his 40s, and I honestly don't remember much more than that about his appearance. I think I blocked it out. Anyways, he was awgling at me.

I looked away, feeling awkward, and continued to my stepmother's car. Then, from behind me, I heard my stepmother say, excuse me, she's wearing a bra. I turned around puzzled. The man was leaning out of his window and said, she needs to put a sweater on. It was spring, probably around 70 degrees out. I remember very well what I was wearing. A pair of flared, low-rise jeans as it was the early 2000s after all, and a fitted crew neck t-shirt. My mid-drift was covered by the shirt, and so was my chest. We stared at him. I felt that I had done something wrong by wearing a fitted D-shirt and smiling at him.

Then he continued, she's in decent, she needs to cover up, I could see her breasts through her shirt." My stepmother said, whatever, or something to that effect, I said nothing and looked at the ground feeling very uncomfortable and frightened. We got into the car and she reassured me that my clothes were fine, and I had done nothing wrong. The man started up his bus, and with a loud rumble, he sped out of the parking lot. A couple of weeks went by before I saw him again. My step-sister and I were walking our dog, who was 130 pounds of fluffy black fur, and as friendly as could be.

He was also protective and typically didn't shy away from other dogs or people. My step-sister was holding an unlit cigarette and paused to fix the strap on her shoe. We were in front of the hippie bus guy's house and he walked outside. He didn't appear to recognize me and walked up to my step-sister, offering he walked outside. He didn't appear to recognize me, and walked up to my step-sister, offering her a light. She's about three years younger than me, so this made me even more creeped out. So, I chose to confront him about what he said to me. I later wished that I had not picked that battle. Do you remember me from the parking lot at the grocery store?

He told me I needed to put a sweater on, I said. He shrugged. I'm known for speaking my mind around town. You said I was indecent, I continued. I really don't know where I was going with this, but I felt like I had to point out his wrongdoing somehow. Then he snapped. Women shouldn't be flaunting themselves and showing off. I haven't

been with a woman in ten years. Do you have any idea what it's like seeing women exposing their bodies?" he ranted. I stepped back, and a nervous giggle involuntarily escaped my mouth. As I said, I'm normally pretty shy and have severe social anxiety. I giggle nervously when I'm not sure of what to say and feel awkward. It is still a bad habit of mine. Are you laughing at my pain?" he screamed. My sister and I began walking backward. I held at my hands, trying to indicate that I meant no harm. Our dog then lunged forward barking and growling.

The man squatted down, leaned forward, and roared at our dog. Our dog whimpered and cowered away. I had never seen our dog do that in response to a human. The man began to yell, claiming that he was an ex-green beret. He said we shouldn't fuck with him and made various threats that became a stream of incomprehensible screaming. My step-sister Dog and I took off running down the street to a nearby bike path in Park. We could even hear him screaming when we went further away from him by the park.

We were too shaken to continue our walk and wanted to tell our parents what happened. Fortunately, we were able to loop around our house without passing by him again, by walking the next block over. When we got home, we told our parents everything that had happened. My stepmother remembered the man, of course, and she and my dad were both very angry. And he was still outside, screaming. It was terrifying. I didn't know if he knew which house was hours and was scared that he would somehow turn up at the door or worse. Our parents didn't want to go confront him because he was obviously insane and likely dangerous. They called the police to report his screaming and ranting. My dad kept his gun loaded and ready for the next several days in our home office, which is next to the front door.

For the next week, we would occasionally hear him outside screaming and ranting. The rumble of his bus was distinctive, so I could always hear it when he drove by our house. I was terrified, too afraid to go anywhere. I was definitely not passing by his house. I didn't drive back then, so my only transportation was walking or biking or the bus, none of which felt safe at all. The park and bike path down the street was, and still is, one of my favorite places to go, but I avoided it for about a month unless somebody else was with me. The cops were called at least twice more, because of his ranting and screaming. I never even considered filing a report about his behavior toward me because I still felt that I had done something wrong.

After some time had passed, I stopped hearing him screaming and began to relax. I hadn't been going anywhere alone, but finally I began to walk and bike by myself again. Eventually I had the courage to walk down the street past his house. I never saw him again. At some point over the next year, he left. The bus was gone and the small house that he lived in was empty. I was so relieved after living in fear of that guy, who was only a few doors down from me for months.

Since then, I have learned to be more careful about who I choose to confront and how I do it. And I stay the hell away from Volkswagen hippie buses, so to the crazy hippie neighbor, ex-Greenbore or whoever the hell you really are. Let's not meet again. Fresh produce is the best produce. That's why at Crocker, 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.

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If you're yearning for the Open Road, some creepy 90s talk radio about ghosts or aliens, or you just want to spend your evening relaxing with the group of podcast friends. Join me at twitch.tv slash cryptic county, where I'll take you for a drive across the globe as we visit some classic, creepy radio shows and chat about all things weird. Ever since I injured my leg, pretty badly, I've been really enjoying these evening streams playing games like American Truck Simulator or other relaxing puzzle games listening to the radio and chatting with friends and fans.

So if you find yourself looking for some company, consider following me at twitch.tv slash cryptic county so you can be notified whenever I go live. Don't forget to stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended ad-free version of this week's episode. You can join by heading over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today and get access to hours of bonus material instantly. This week you have heard, Wrong Number Neat by May, a close call by I Heart Weenerdogs, stalked at 17 by a listener that asked to remain anonymous, Vacation Creepers by Rebecca, Adrian by a listener that asked to remain anonymous, Woman's Best Friend by Aaron,, restaurant creeper by Ilva, and finally,

my outspoken ex-GreenBarray hippie neighbor by a listener that asked to remain anonymous. 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. Don't forget to check out the new episodes of all my other podcasts like Odd Trails. Welcome to Paradise, It sucks, and the old-time radio cast at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. I'll see you all next week. Stay safe. So good to see you, how are things? Okay. And Max's new school network?

I don't think it's working for us. What do you mean? It's good, but it's missing some of what he needs. Like, they don't even have music, which Max loves. What about coming back to Fort Worth ISD? Max can get the math and music he loves. There's STEM, sports, theater, languages. A world of possibilities is right here in your neighborhood.

Yeah, for Orthiastate. Enroll today at fwisd.org. Mom. AT&T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending.

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