Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x09: The Silver Stalkers

Episode Date: August 21, 2023

Don't miss the live video stream special of Let's Not Meet on Friday, September 1st at 7:00 PM PDT at https://twitch.tv/andytatelive! Stories in this episode: - Home Alone in Rural Arkansas in the 90s, by Samantha (1:10) - He Smashed Her Face, by Jesse (6:23) - The Leather-Clad Scumbag at the Ice Cream Shop, by Alivia (11:25) - An Uber Scare, by Vanessa (18:09) - The Facebook Market Place Opportunist, by Ellis (22:27) - He Took Pictures of Me Behind My Back, by Krispy Kritter (27:03) - My Jamaican Abduction Journey, by Katie (31:49) - The Silver Stalkers, by Kaitlyn (41:02) Extended Patreon Content: - Buff Man, by Ash - Gentlemen Prefer Brunettes, by California Phil - "Am I Scaring You?", by Anna Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. 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! PDS DEBT is offering free debt analysis to our listeners just for completing the quick and easy debt assessment at https://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/andytatelive/

Friday September 1st, we will be presenting a full episode of Let's Not Meet Live with a Pact House of returning guest narrators all on video for free at twitch.tv slash and deta-live. That's a new account. Write it down. Tell your friends and follow us now so you don't miss it. We'll be live at 7 p.m. Pacific. I'll be joined by Soren Narnie of Knife Point Horror, fair and more of more to the story. Amanda and Cassidy from Drinking the Cool Age shall be Scott of Scary to Sleep and finally M in Christine from And That's Why we Drink. Again, that's Friday, September 1st at 7pm Pacific at twitch.tv slash Andie Tate Live. No, this will not be on the old account.

Make sure you follow the new one. We'll see you there. Enjoy the show. I grew up in rural Arkansas in the 90s. The house I lived in with my family was surrounded by farmland. We had neighbors that lived about a quarter of a mile away from us on either side of our property. Our home was about a mile outside of a small town on a heavily traveled two-lane state highway. During the summer before seventh grade, my mother decided that I was old enough to stay home alone

and watch my younger brother while she went to work. I'm sure that not having to pay a babysitter was the primary motivator for this decision, regardless. My brother and I were thrilled to be able to stay home by ourselves. Being home with my nine-year-old brother was definitely not always easy and enjoyable, but it beat having to stay with some of the terrible babysitters that we endured over the years. Now, not too long after we were left on our own, we had our first encounter with the man who looked like the country artist Travis Tritt, he was popular in the 90s.

This man was approximately in his late 30s or early 40s with a long Auburn Mollett. He drove a dark blue Chevy S10 extended cab from the 80s. We saw him pull into our driveway and witnessed him steal a weed eater from underneath our carport. When we told our parents about what happened, they were more than concerned about losing the weed eater than the threat of a stranger showing up on their property when their unsupervised children were home alone. I'm not honestly sure if this even registered to them as a threat to us at all.

Remember, it was the 90s. My brother and I remained on edge about the man for a while. We would see the truck pass by our house on occasion or see the man driving around town. I'm sure that we told our parents about the sightings, but I don't recall them ever acting on this information. I'm not sure why they didn't believe us, or if they just didn't want to confront him, or maybe they didn't want to make a report. As time passed, we thought about the incident and the Travis Tritt doppelganger less and less. But then one day I was in the kitchen when my brother ran to me in a panic from the living room. "'Sammy, he's back! The man is back!' my brother wailed.

I didn't believe my brother at first because it was common for him to stretch the truth or even pester me just for fun. But my brother was persistent about this. He said that he was serious about the man being in the driveway. I walked toward the living room to see for myself, still not believing him. I leaned forward, placing my knee on the couch cushion to peer over the back of the couch out the front window that overlooked the driveway. There's no one out there, I said, as my eyes locked with the man who was walking from

his truck toward the car-port door. Then I gasped. Oh my God! He's back! I was shocked that he had returned, and this time he saw me. Our house was small. It was a three-bedroom ranch-style house with a hall that separated the common living space from the bedrooms. I quickly ran to the car-port door and locked it before my brother and I lay down in the hall where we could still monitor the door. The man then knocked. My brother and I stayed silent. The guy began to jiggle the door knob attempting to open the door. He was trying to get in, knowing that at least I, an 11-year-old girl, was inside. I army crawled across the floor to grab the cordless phone. I then crawled back down the hall to my bedroom with my little brother, where we sat with

our backs against the door to create some resistance if the man happened to make it inside. We hurriedly called my grandmother who lived only a half a mile away. Grandmaw, I said. There's a man outside trying to get into the house. There was a short pause. Well, sis, she groaned. I dressed. I've got to get my clothes on first. I remember feeling both appalled and helpless in hearing her response. I'm still not sure why she wasn't alarmed, but my brother and I do laugh

about it now. The man eventually gave up and left before my grandmother got herself together enough to come over and check on us. I'm thankful that he wasn't more determined to get in because it wouldn't have taken much force to kick in that flimsy carport door. My brother, nor I, ever found out who this man was or what his intentions were for me that day. I do know that there was nothing wholesome that a middle-aged man could have had on his agenda by attempting to break into a rural home with unsupervised minors. To the Travis trip-looking, weed eater stealing stranger. Let's not meet.

Around the time of the 2008 financial collapse, I found myself to be jobless along with the rest of the country. It wasn't a good time to find a job and the career field that I was aiming for. It was more of a, find a job to keep from drowning in bills and debt situation. I went on Craigslist and search of work and was hired by a security firm. It was the worst security firm on Earth by far. They treated their employees poorly. I told myself that I would stick around just long enough to land myself a more suitable and better-paying job.

Nine years later, I found myself to have worked my way up the totem pole in the security field with more reputable companies and better pay. At the time, though, I was managing a team at a large-gated HOA that had four guard gates that were in charge of access control. The homes were worth millions of dollars and the residents were entitled jerks. Each entrance had two lanes entering. One was a residential lane with the transponder sensor that opened the mechanical gate automatically,

and there was a visitor lane where the guard pushed a button to open the gate for people the residents had authorized to enter. On the other side of the guard house was a single road leading to the properties. This wasn't a high security post, and the guards working these gates were buttoned down shirts with a badge, name tag, and whistle on a chain that attached to a pin above their chest pocket. These guards were unarmed, and a majority of them were elderly or young people meeting a job that allowed them to complete

their schoolwork while on the clock. One guard in particular was well known for two things, drinking on the job and smoking cigarettes in the guard house restroom. His name was John. Now, nobody cared if you smoked cigarettes on post as long as it was outside of the house, but I personally felt like he did it intentionally to mask the scent of the booze, you know, with the smoke. The higher-ups never really looked into the multiple complaints of his drinking habits because he showed up, did his job with that issue, and quietly collected his paycheck.

He was reliable, and it was very difficult to find people like that since the security field has always had a high turnover rate. One evening, John was posted at the guard house for one of the more easy-going gates. Not much action really happened at this gate compared to the others. John suddenly heard a pounding at the glass window next to the exit line. Anyone on the property could approach the door, and it was quite common for residents to drop in while taking their dogs out to say hi to the guards or drop off snacks and food. Now when John went to the glass door, he saw a young woman in her late 20s, maybe early 30s, who appeared to be in distress.

She was screaming that she was in danger, and she needed help. John took the woman into the guard house and locked the door. She explained that her husband had tried to kill her and was out chasing her around the complex. Before John could call the police, he heard pounding on the door again. He turned and looked only to see the woman's husband, looming in the doorway.

The woman's husband triedoming in the doorway. The woman's husband tried to rip the door out of the frame. John tried to plead with the man to go away, and tried to lock himself in the woman in the bathroom to create additional distance from the husband in hopes that he would walk away. Instead, the husband took a rock and smashed the glass door to undo the lock on the door handle and the deadbolt.

The man busted into the bathroom, dragged his wife out of the guard house by her hair over the walkway and onto the visitor lane road. He then proceeded to smash her face into the asphalt repeatedly, leaving her a bloody mess. Footage of this was captured via the perimeter camera system. And what was also caught on camera was John hauling ass down the road out of sight. He ran right past the man brutally harming his wife. The police came and the man attempted to fight off six officers at once in a field close

to where the incident took place. Apparently, he was high out of his mind on cocaine. I'm not sure what became of the woman since I left that company shortly after this happened for a better job. All I've heard is that her family is attempting to sue John for blatantly avoiding helping her escape from her attacker after she was pulled out of the guard house.

To the woman who had this terrible incident happened to her, I wish you well. To the man who did this and to John who ran right past him as he attacked, you can burn in hell. This story happened a few years ago, but it's been burned into my memory. I was 20 at the time, and I was with my baby cousins, who were 5 and 8 respectively. We have a tradition of going out to get manicures and pedicures, followed by some ice cream. This time a friend of mine was with us. We pulled up to the ice cream place which was located in a strip mall, and the shop itself had one entrance and an exit with some steps in the front. When we went inside the shop and got our ice

cream, there was a man sitting alone at a table. If I had to guess he was in his late 40s to early 50s. I remember him because I got this awful feeling when I saw him, but I tried to ignore it. I listened to and watched a lot of true crime media, so I assumed that I was just being paranoid. He was dressed oddly for the middle of summer. He was wearing a black leather jacket in jeans. He didn't look up from his phone as we entered the ice cream shop and didn't seem to notice anyone else was there. We decided to

sit outside and eat our ice cream on the steps. My friend and I got our ice cream first, so we went outside and sat there by the front door. My baby cousins followed about a minute later. My friend and I had finished eating and were casually talking when my youngest cousin started doing the potty dance. Naturally I asked if she had to use the restroom and she said yes. Her sister offered to take her back into the shop since she had to go as well. I let both girls re-enter the store to go use the bathroom. My friend and I sat and talked for a bit until I realized almost 15 minutes had passed. The shop wasn't busy as we were the only customers there, aside from the leather jacket guy.

I suddenly got a nervous feeling and decided to go check on them. I walked inside and saw the man standing by the bathroom door. I approached the door, and I was about to knock to ask the girls if they were okay. The man and I made eye contact, and he said, Oh, my daughters are in there, they'll be done soon. My heart dropped. My blood ran ice cold. Even thinking back on it now makes me sick, because something really bad could have happened. Without breaking eye contact with him I knocked on the door and said, girls, are you okay? The man bolted out of the door upon realizing that I caught him

in his lie. The door swung open, and I picked up my younger cousin, then grabbed her sister's hand, and pulled them out of the shop. I was trying to remain calm because I didn't want to scare them any more than they already were. When we got outside, my older cousin was crying. I put my younger cousin down to hug and comfort the older one. I fumbled with my keys as I pulled them both toward the car. My friend was confused as all she had seen was a man sprinting out of the store, followed by me behaving oddly. I told my friend we needed to go, and I would explain later.

When we got back home, my younger cousin went to show my mom her nails while the older cousin and I sat on the porch. I asked her what happened. She said that when they walked in together, the man was watching them, and they got a bad feeling. She was originally planning to wait outside of the bathroom, while her sister used the bathroom first. But because of the man, she pushed them both aside and locked the door. When my younger cousin was using the restroom, the man knocked on the door and told them, you need to hurry up. Mommy is waiting." Obviously this terrified her. She didn't know this man. It became obvious he didn't know that we came together so his plan was to pretend the girls were his

kids so that he could walk out of the store with them and go, God knows where to do Lord knows what. I still shudder to think about it. My older cousin and I have avoided talking about this and my younger cousin doesn't seem to have any memory of what happened, or maybe she was just too young to fully understand the situation. Neither way, I'm glad she doesn't seem to be impacted by it. We talked about calling the police after this happened and I believe their parents reported it

to a cop friend of theirs to have a record of it. My baby cousin and I still honor our tradition of going to get manicures and pedicures and ice cream, but we go to a completely different ice cream shop. I still kick myself for letting them go back into the shop alone, but I know the blame truly lies on the men who had something sinister planned. To the leather clad scumbag at the ice cream shop, I pray your little trick never worked with any other little girls, and I hope you ended up in prison where you belong. Let's not meet again. How many of you wish there was a better solution for paying off your debt? PDS debt has customized 0% interest options for anybody struggling with credit cards, personal

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at www.pds.com slashmeat. That's pdsdbt.com slashmeat or follow the link in the show notes. Take back your financial freedom today by visiting pds.com slashmeat. Now back to the show. I'm a 5'4 female. I used to work in law enforcement, but finally left that line of work, due to refusing to work anywhere that affects my mental health. I also refused to work anywhere I felt was corrupt. When I was in-between careers I was driving for Uber. I am very paranoid due to my former line of work and all of the true crime podcasts that I listened to.

On this particular weekend, my city was being invaded by pirates. When this happens the city throws a parade down by the water. I knew it would be a great weekend to make money due to the adults using the pirate parade as an excuse to drink and dress up like a pirate while catching some beads from the parade. I logged in and quickly received a request for a pickup. I drove to the destination displayed on my GPS and pulled up to a house. There were absolutely no lights on inside this house or in the backyard. The street was quiet. I parked and I let the rider know that I arrived to pick them up and I was

out front. A man then appeared from seemingly nowhere out of the shadows and asked if I was the Uber driver. I told him that I was and he got into my car. I started driving down the road when I got a phone call from the name of the person who was supposed to be in my car getting the Uber ride. The man in the back seat told me that his daughter was having a party at his house. He explained he stopped by to check things out before leaving to stay with his girlfriend for the night. I thought this was strange since, as I said before, there were no lights on inside the house and no cars out front or in the driveway.

There definitely wasn't a party going on at that house. My phone was still ringing so I picked it up. It was a woman who told me I must have picked up the wrong person. She said that she was still at the given address waiting for me. The man in the back seat said, oh, I must have gotten into my daughter's friend's Uber. She was waiting for an Uber as well. He then handed me $60 and told me to go back and get her after I dropped him off. He said that he would cash-app her since he took the Uber-Mine mistake. He was insistent about me going back to get her even after I told him that I couldn't

do that or take his money. I eventually told the man and the woman on the phone that I would do what they wanted me to do since I was getting bad vibes. I was creeped out by the man since he kept leaning closer to me as I was driving. I was carrying a knife in my bra and I also store a blackjack under my leg on the driver's seat. I also have an open pocket knife right next to me in my compartment on the driver's side door since I'm so paranoid. There is no way I'm going

down without a fight if anyone tries something." The man stopped lurching toward me when I told him that I would go back to that dark house for his daughter's friend after I dropped him off. Then I dropped him off around the corner from where he said that his girlfriend lived. I most certainly did not copack to that dark house to pick up the girl who was supposedly waiting for a ride. I was freaked out. I called it quits for the night, right away, in which straight home after reporting the instance to Uber.

They never received any complaints about the incorrect pickup at the address I provided them which makes me believe without a doubt that I was correct in being paranoid. The man was hoping that I'd go back to that dark house to pick up the girl who was waiting. But had I done that, the ride wouldn't have been recorded on the app. If anything were to happen to me, there would be no record of it. My paranoia in years and law enforcement prevented me from being kidnapped or worse that night. So to the sketchy man and the girl who was waiting, let's not ever meet again. I'm from Manchester and I have been a big fan of the show for quite some time now. I never thought I'd be submitting my own story, but here I am. This one is kind of short, but not so sweet.

Recently, I had a message from a guy on Facebook asking about a lamp that I was selling on Marketplace. It didn't start out as anything unusual, he was just asking about the pricing, and he wanted to see more pictures of the lamp. He decided that he was interested in the lamp, and he wanted to pick it up from me since I don't drive. I sent him my postcode and we exchanged numbers to arrange a pick up day and time. Once I sent him my number, I didn't hear from him right away, so I thought that he was no longer interested in the lamp.

Then, I started receiving calls from callers with no caller ID. I didn't think anything of these calls and I assumed that it was my ex. He's always ringing me out of the blue just to have an argument. I knew better than to answer. So I didn't. A few nights later, I had a few drinks when another one of these calls came through. I decided to answer, fully expecting it to be my ex, but nobody spoke when I picked up. I only heard breathing for a little bit, so I said, Tom, what the hell are you doing? Stop being weird and ringing me. Whoever was on the

line finally spoke and asked, why are you not at home? Then they giggled and hung up. I did not recognize the voice at all, so I was a little weirded out by the phone call, but I didn't let that ruin my night. These creepy phone calls went on for a while, and every time I would pick up, there would be somebody breathing for a bit before asking something like, baby, where are you? Then ending the call. I mentioned this to my dad and he told me to put my phone on DO NOT DISTURB so the calls would go straight to voicemail.

Then, when I was at work recently, I checked my phone as I was ending my shift. I realized I had four missed calls from my mom. I rang her back while I was still at work and she said a man had knocked on the door, asking for me. I assumed it was the man from the Facebook Marketplace finally wanting to pick up the lamp. I worked at a pub at this time, which meant that I had late work hours, so I was a little annoyed when he just showed up, especially with it being so late. Not to mention he dropped by without

actually arranging a time as we had discussed. I asked my mom if this guy was asking for the lamp. My mom said, no, he said that you told him he could wait in your room until you were home from work. This is when I got very scared. How did this man know that I was at work? And who in their right mind would do that? My mom obviously did not let him in, and told him if I really said that, he could wait outside

for me, as we have a big dog in the yard, and he's not friendly. I assured her I never said that he could come over nor that he could wait in my room and I asked her if he was still outside. I told her about the whole interaction over Facebook including the phone calls, and that's when I connected the dots. My mom looked out the window and said that he was gone, but I was still very scared. I asked my mom to pick me up from work as he seemed to know where I worked. I didn't want to chance anything.

She agreed to pick me up, and as I was waiting for her, I went to send him an angry message. I was ready to come in hot and ask him, what the hell do you think you're doing? But I couldn't find his profile anywhere. It was gone. I'm still receiving calls, and I have no idea what to do. I was naive for giving my address a number to a stranger. If anybody listening has anything on Facebook marketplace, please be very careful. There are some very scary people out there, and it's impossible to know their intentions. I have no idea what this man would do if he came into

my house, and I was home alone. Thank you for listening. I will keep you updated if anything else happens. Back in 2012, I was working in a clothing shop on the south side of San Antonio, Texas. At this time, I had been working there for nearly 10 years, even though it was a pretty toxic work environment. The shop was owned by a married couple that usually only hired family members. During the 10 years I worked there, I never moved up past the third key supervisor,

which meant I did all of the work of a manager with none of the pay or the credit. Around the time this incident happened, the store wasn't looking too well financially. Sales were low and the owners were quick to blame the lack of revenue on nearly everybody except themselves. They stopped hiring and soon the store was down to only a few employees. Several of the family members that were working there had either quit or were

fired for theft. The owner's solution was to have a few remaining employees open, close, and run the store by themselves. One evening, I was closing by myself. An hour before closing time, a man walked into the store and asked to see a button-up men's shirt that was hanging on the wall. There was nothing too extraordinary about him. He had no distinguishing features, and he didn't give off any creepy vibes. And being a woman in her 20s, working in a small mall on the south side of San Antonio, I had pretty much become an expert on how to spot creepy guys. But apparently, I was a little rusty that night. There would be no story to tell if I had

been on my game, though. Thinking nothing of it, I agreed to retrieve the button-up shirt for this man. In order to do so, I had to grab a pole from the back of the store to be able to reach the shirt. So, I walked past him to get the pole. Once I turned back around to hand him the shirt, I noticed that he was really close to me. I took a step back to create some distance and handed him the shirt, I noticed that he was really close to me. I took a step back to create some distance and handed him the shirt. He unbuttoned the shirt and tried it on over the shirt that

he was wearing. He then stated that it was a bit small and requested that I grab another size. I obliged and turned around to pull down another size. All the while, this man was still right behind me as if I hadn't made it clear that he was standing too close. I really didn't think he was up to anything insidious, since he hadn't said or done anything to convince me that he wasn't there shopping for a new shirt. I still felt that there was something off, though. He said the size I grabbed didn't fit him that well, Then he thanked me and said that he wanted to keep shopping around. After he left the store, I began my closing duties,

while I kept thinking about how strange it was for him to be as close to me as he was. I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I decided to check the camera footage. When I was focusing on pulling the shirts down, this man was sticking his phone up under my dress and taking photos with flash. That's why he was so close to me. I was wearing a baby doll dress and cowboy boots, a very cute ensemble, might I add. But the outfit definitely didn't say come take pictures of what's underneath. I was immediately sick to my stomach, I felt violated. I contacted security and they took

a photo of the man on the footage and began searching for him in the mall. It was already closing time so we knew that he was pretty much gone at this point. The security officer was great though. He said that he would post the photo of the guy in their office and continue to be on the lookout for him. He even offered to walk me to my car once I was done closing up. I then made a call to the owners, the wife answered, and I'm not even joking, she literally laughed at me. She thought that it was hilarious. I should have quit my job right then and there. I was absolutely dumbfounded that she reacted that way, but judging by how they run their business, I shouldn't have been too surprised that she didn't take it seriously. I felt slightly defeated after

that, so I didn't even bother to make a police report. I ended up quitting some months later, and I wound up moving out of Texas entirely for other personal reasons. So all I can say is to the creepy perverted guy who likes to stick his phone up under women's dresses You're sick and let's never meet and to the radias couple that sucked the life from me for 10 years Let's also never meet To begin my tale, I must give you a brief background story about my family. My mother has two sisters. Both sisters are married with children as well. Both of my uncles have done quite well for themselves, while my parents and I live a more

modest life. That being said, my cousins and I have wildly different upbringing. I never wanted anything and I didn't mind working my way through high school, but I wouldn't have minded living on a horse farm and traveling the world on a whim, either. Regardless, I always shared a special bond with my cousins that our mothers strongly encouraged. It also meant that I got to go on some pretty great vacations that I would not have experienced otherwise. For the sake of this tale, I'm changing everyone's names.

Andrew is my male cousin, who is the same age as me, and Sarah is my cousin who is a year older. Our baby cousin Lucy is nine years younger than me. One summer, my eldest aunt decided that we were all overdue for a family outing, and she was not about to let up on this one. My parents often declined since we were not hemorrhaging cash. My parents were also worried about getting a room that would be big enough for the three of us at a reasonable cost. My aunt advised them that they could get a slum room in the bowels of a boat where I could stay with my cousins.

I mean, what could go wrong, leaving two sixteen-year-olds and a seventeen-year-old in a room alone, far away from any of our guardians, on a ship full of strangers in the middle of the ocean? Andrew and I quickly scouted the boat for older friends on our journey to get sea-slashed with. The one who decided to attach himself to us was a massive, creepy stage-five cleaner, who was so proud of the branding that he had on his leg from being in a fraternity. Throughout the whole trip, he was constantly up my butt, following me, trying to grow me, and kissing me when

I wasn't paying attention. Had he not been built like the Hulk, I would have thrown his creepy ass off the ship. To make matters worse, he was rocking a Bob Ross do, nearly putting the legend to shame, honestly. One of the ports stops that we made was in Jamaica. Sarah went with my younger aunt and baby cousin who was about six at the time to do some touristy stuff. I have no idea what many of the other adults were doing, but they slipped us some cash and told us to hit the bricks. Again, leaving two sixteen-year-olds with a strange adult, aka creepy Hulk, what could possibly go wrong? Elated by the freedom and the possibility of finding weed, we went on our merry way.

I desperately wanted to get my hair braided, and my defense I was only 16 and cultural appropriation wasn't yet on my tiny brain's radar. So my genius cousin and our douchebag and shining armor decided the best course of action was to walk along the boardwalk and ask the woman doing hair if they could also direct us to drugs. Suddenly, an unmarked beat-up sedan pulled up to the curb where we were standing. He introduced himself as schoolboy and advised that he had a girl who could do my hair and a weed connection. Creepy Hulk and my cousin, hopped in the car faster than you could say,

three dead tourists. I wasn't super thrilled with the idea, but I also didn't want to be left alone so I reluctantly joined them. And I got in the unmarked beat-up sedan as well. Schoolboy and Creepy Hulk chatted it up for a bit. Then Creepy Hulk pulled me partially onto his lap and began to try and put his hands down my pants. I don't know

if my cousin noticed or what he was doing because I was desperately trying to discreetly get this guy out of my pants. At some point, the thought occurred to me that this drive was getting long. Creepy Hulk mentioned this to schoolboy and he assured us that we were almost there. For the first time, I looked up and realized we were literally in the middle of nowhere. Andrew and I made eye contact and I could see the fear in his eyes. I turned and looked at the rear view window to see that the city was no longer in view. Right around when the three of us were becoming noticeably unhappy, schoolboy hung a hard left onto a tiny narrow dirt road that appeared to be climbing up a small mountain.

Right when schoolboy announced we had reached our destination, a bare naked woman ran out into the road and lay in front of our car. Per schoolboy's reaction, this was apparently business as usual. Then a man came out and screamed at this woman until she got up and ran into the forest. Once the woman had vacated the premises, we turned right into a clearing. There were tables and several men hanging out. Now by hanging out, I mean there were around 12 to 15 young men sitting on the grass holding assault rifles and, in some cases, machetes. When I looked up at them, they all glared at me, with matching, empty expressions.

Schoolboy told us everything was fine and told us to stay cool. He then walked us over to a picnic table and had us sit down. The woman who was going to do my hair was there as well, and she gave all of us beers and encouraged us to drink liberally. A smart person would not have boozed in the manner that I did, but since I thought that I had one foot in the grave already I figured I might as well not be sober for it. The woman started doing my hair and whispered to another man that was hanging around every so often. I realized as I was sitting there that they were separating us. A little ways

away, schoolboy and Andrew were sitting and creepy Hulk had completely disappeared. The woman finished my hair and walked away for a few minutes. I slowly meandered over to Andrew and schoolboy. Andrew looked like a deer in headlights and was basically non-responsive to anyone or anything. While sitting there, I started to overhear what creepy Hulk and another man were talking about. It was me. I couldn't make out much, but I clearly remembered the Jamaican man offering a lump sum of money

for me. Schoolboy, who could also hear the conversation turned to Andrew and asked, would you be okay with that? You want that good money too, right? My cousin, in all of his chivalry, kept nodding yes, to paralyze, to even comprehend what was happening. Schoolboy then sat and gazed at me, which left me to either look at the small militia or him. Now things get a little fuzzy here. But then I started to go full, Domo Arigato, Mr. Rabato, with my own terror paralysis.

I don't know what went wrong, but the other man and the woman who did my hair came back and started screaming at us. She asked me for an obscene amount of money that I simply did not have. I gave her everything that I had, and then she and the other man grabbed me and began to drag me away. A couple of the armed men stood up, too. I don't know what their intentions were, but yes, they had bamboozled me into paying much more than I should have, but clearly,

there was something else going on, and they didn't ask for anything from Creepy Hulk or Andrew. It seemed like they were looking to create a legitimate reason to separate me from the others. Andrew stood up looking like he had seen a ghost and creepy Hulk didn't seem to be remotely concerned. For some reason, schoolboy had a change of heart and started talking to the man who was dragging me away. The man let go, but the woman was still grabbing me and began hitting me.

Schoolboy finally got her off of me and I I ran to the car, following my useless male companions. Schoolboy hopped into the car and got us out of that mess. As we drove off, I looked back through the window in time to make out the figures of the naked woman and the lady who had just dragged me by my hair, attempting to run after us.

There were also a few militia men standing by them on the road. To this day, I can't explain exactly what happened or how anything was related. The armed guys on the hill, the naked lady, the discussions about my appearance and worth, the crazy hair lady, the fact that we didn't get robbed technically, or the fact that no one tried to get more money from the men I was with. I can only assume it was related to some kind of sex trafficking, but even then if that was the case, they really screwed the pooch on that attempt. Does anyone else have a theory? To this day, Red Stripe Bear still gives me flashbacks.

To schoolboy, the hair lady, the small militia, the man trying to purchase me, that naked lady, and the 20 year old creepy Hulk. Let's not ever meet again. In April of 2022, I accepted what I thought would be my dream job and moved to a much larger city in Colorado, which is just one state over from my home state. For reference, my hometown is roughly 20,000 people, whereas this city was around 100,000 people and growing. I'm a small town girl, but I've spent a lot of time in various metropolitan areas around the US, so I was completely ignorant to how different life would be in the bigger

city. Still, I was apprehensive about the move, but felt I had to do it for my career, honestly, the job would have been near perfect if not for the location. My fiancee who will call Sam, our dog and I, all moved to a community just outside of the city where I would be working. Sam found a job in the city as well at a local discount clothing store as a lost prevention agent. We each had our own vehicle, but one evening I drove him to work in my car since his car was acting a little funny, and he was worried about it.

His shift ended at 11 at night, so I left the house at around 10-15 to pick him up. As soon as I merged onto the highway, another car came up behind me and telegated me with their brights on for the whole 20-minute drive into the city. I figured it was just another road-raging asshole, so I kept my cool. They'll pass eventually, I thought. The traffic in the city already caused me some anxiety, so I always tried to keep my cool and stay ultra-focused on the road. When I exited the pitch-black stretch of highway into the well-lit city,

the other car seemingly disappeared. However, I distinctly remember having a feeling that I was being watched. I assumed that whoever was tailgating me, probably mean mugged me as they passed by, and maybe that's why I had this feeling. The storm at the Anse worked out was located in a strip mall. It runs parallel to I-25. As I passed under the interstate, I noticed a silver, sporty-looking car start to tailgate me. I wondered if it was the same person as before. At one point, the cars swerved violently into the other lane as if they were going to pass me. They didn't pass me, though, and I assumed that they couldn't do it due to

oncoming traffic. Again, I figured it was just a little case of road rage, or someone trying to scare me because of my out-of-state plates and the proclivity for following the speed limit. I stopped at the stoplight and waited to make my turn into the strip mall. All of a sudden a masculine voice called out. Where are you going, huh? Where are you going?" I hoped that it was the guy on the corner calling out to me, but at that point it was pretty clear this person or persons were following me. The light turned green, and as I accelerated and made my turn, I saw the doors of the

silver car slam shut. I pulled up to the store parking lot and parked directly in front of the entrance where the lights were brightest. I immediately locked the doors but left the engine running in case I needed to leave quickly. I could see my fiance just inside the doors, waiting on the last few customers to leave. The silver car followed me into the parking lot and parked in the road behind me but only for a few seconds. I expected them to pull up next to me and start yelling or something, but they just sat there. The parking lot was nearly empty at this time of night, as most of the stores had closed an hour

earlier. When the driver and the silver car realized I was not going to exit my vehicle, they began circling the empty parking spaces directly behind me going faster and faster. My stomach sank and I knew that whoever was in that car was not messing around and they were not going to back off. With this realization, I pulled out my phone and texted Sam. I said something to the effect of, please get out here as soon as possible. A car is out here being obnoxious, and they're freaking me out. I grabbed Sam's handgun out of the glove box and held it in my lap, trying to remember

everything that he had taught me. I'm not a gun person, and I only recently learned how to use it. Ironically enough, I never wanted Sam to bring that thing anywhere with us. It's safe to say I was eating my words at that moment. The silver car continued circling the parking lot, no doubt waiting for me to make my move. My fiance is very protective of me, so I wanted nothing more than to run inside to where he was, but I was worried that if I did, the other car would pull up and block my driver's side door. Then, they

abruptly exited the parking lot and went out toward the highway. I breathed a sigh of relief, but refused to let my guard down as I scanned my eyes around the parking lot, but I didn't see any sign of the silver car. After a few minutes, I checked my rear-view mirror and I noticed a car parked in a different lot further behind me. I was immediately suspicious of this car even though I couldn't see the color or any other features in the distance. It caught my attention because it was the only vehicle that was backed into a parking space,

so I could see their windshield in my rear-view mirror. Once I saw it, I couldn't look away from it. The headlights of this car suddenly turned on, and I had this gut feeling, the same one as before. A few thoughts ran through my mind. That can't be the same car. Maybe it's somebody ending their shift at the ice cream shop. Our ice cream shops even opened this late.

The car pulled out of the parking spot and snaked its way into the light of the parking lot where I was still waiting for Sam. It was the same silver car. I tried to take note of the license plate, but the car appeared to have some kind of temporary tag, like the ones that you get from the dealership. Initially, I thought that it was a Texas plate because it was all white with small black lettering. I have bad eyesight and astigmatism, so focusing on things far away is pretty difficult, especially at night. Upon re-entering the parking lot, the silver car continued with the same stunt as before, speeding around the empty rows of parking spaces behind me. The car stopped behind me a few times, not in a way that blocked me in, but essentially,

flanking my car's driver's side without getting close enough for me to make out who it was, or how many people were in that vehicle. Come on, Sam. What's going on, hurry up. I panic whispered to myself. I had been sitting in the parking lot for roughly 15 minutes at that point. Sam and his work partner were watching the situation unfold from inside the store. Finally, Sam walked out in front of the doors with his eyes fixed on the silver car.

I crawled over the center console and at the passenger seat. Sam opened the driver's side door and calmly extended his hand to take the gun. I started to remove it from the holster, but he said not yet, and a calm, composed tone. He's ex-military and was a correctional officer for a while, so he's trained and ready for situations like this. Now before climbing into the driver's seat, Sam slipped the holstered gun onto his right hip. This was meant to be a not-so-subtle signal to the other vehicle that he was more than prepared to defend us. Once Sam was in the vehicle, the other car pulled up, perpendicular to the back of my bumper,

and stopped, blocking us in. This is when I truly started to panic and frantically asked Sam, what are we going to do? He told me to stay calm and that he would handle it. We're just going to watch and see what they do first, he said. Now, it may sound like Sam was being nonchalant about this situation, but I can assure you, that wasn't the case. He was extremely focused on taking in every detail about the vehicle while planning his next move. His calm confidence in situations like this is effective and it keeps me calm.

The silver car sat for a few seconds, but it felt like forever. As I was mentally preparing myself to fight off an attack, the car suddenly sped away at mock speed. It went to the far end of the parking lot. Sam pulled out of the parking lot all the while assuring me that we were going to be okay. He told me to just stay calm and keep my head down. I was looking around for any sign of the silver car when I saw bright headlights coming up behind us. I sank down into my seat and I kept my eyes fixed on the dash. I hardly moved a muscle

for the remainder of the drive. I just stared out the window shield, trying to appear unbothered. I didn't want those guys to see my face, or have the satisfaction of knowing that I was terrified. Plus, I knew that if Sam had to fire a gun, he would need a clear view without me getting in the way. I began to dissociate at that moment. All I can remember is seeing Sam in my peripheral view and the bright headlights illuminating my vehicle from behind. So the last bit of this story is mostly Sam's account. He didn't share the full details with me until later.

As the car came up behind us, Sam unholstered his gun and held it close to his sternum. The car continued to tailgate us with their brights on for about 15 miles. Sam watched as they weaved back and forth between the lanes. He assumed that they wanted to get in front of us. Thankfully the flow of traffic and road construction prevented this. Had they succeeded, they would have tried to slow us down or possibly jump us at the next stoplight. Due to road construction, all lanes eventually had to exit the highway.

We would come to another set of traffic lights. This is where we normally turn to get back to our neighborhood. The light turned red and the silver car pulled up next to us on the driver's side. We had been driving in total silence up until that point. We're getting close to the house Sam. How are we going to lose them? I asked quietly, looking over at him. We're okay, he replied. Just keep looking away. The red light illuminated the interior of the vehicle just enough for Sam to see the outline of two people in the front seat and three in the back. With his left hand wrapped tightly around the top of the steering wheel, Sam raised the gun to the top of his left bicep so that he could point it directly at the silver car's

passenger. He stared at the shadowy figures in the car. Before the light turned green, that Silver Car accelerated, cutting into the turning lane and then merged back onto the highway, going in the opposite direction from us. We made it to the house with no further issues, and that's when the reality of what could have happened set in. I was still worried that they followed us home without being seen. Given the growing crime rate and gang activity in this particular city, and due to our proximity to the interstate, I'm thoroughly convinced

that whoever was in that vehicle were probably traffickers. Sam firmly believes that they were after me. Later, Sam told me that they thought their plates were fake and that the car had been modified since it reached high speeds faster than your average sports car. What I do know is that they saw me, a female in a car, with an out-of-state license plate driving by herself late at night. They likely figured I was lost in the loan. They likely figured I was lost in the loan. Also known as, easy to grab. We left that city after living nearby for six months and I never want to set foot there again. Sam and I feel sick when we think about that night.

We both know that if I had done something differently, I could have ended up inside that silver car, and they would have booked it to the interstate and I would have been gone. Stay safe, friends, and always remember, sometimes observing and underreacting can be safer than overreacting to a situation. To the people inside of that car stalking me like some kind of prey, let's not meet. Make sure you stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended ad-free version of this week's episode, and if you'd like to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast, to sign up and support the show today you'll get

access to all kinds of bonus content at a higher bit rate for the best listening experience. This week you have heard Home Alone in Rural, Arkansas, and The 90s by Samantha. He smashed her face by Jesse. The leather-clad scumbag at the ice cream shop by Olivia. The Uber Scar by Vanessa. The Facebook Marketplace Opportunist by Ellis. He took pictures of me behind my back by Krispy Critter, my Jamaican abduction journey by Katie,

and finally the Silver Stockers by Caitlin. 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, make sure you send it over to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and we'll take a look. Real quick, last week it was brought to my attention that there was another podcast out there

by the name of Let's Not Meet. I checked it out and a handful of the reviews were from our listeners and they were giving them some bad feedback about the name. Listen, that's not what we're about here in cryptic Coyoney. I actually reached out to the podcast to let them know what was going on and to see what we could do to fix the problem

because in this world of podcasting, the scary story gang were a positive community and we all do so much better when we looked each other up and worked together. Anyway, I talked to Chris and one of the hosts and he was a super nice guy and we know heart feelings and they decided to change the name of the podcast to something more unique that still rang true to their format so instead of jumping the gun and tearing each other down we we made new friends. And maybe we'll get to work together in the future, who knows, but please give them a listen and an honest review about their content and show them some love instead of negativity. Check out their show, be careful out there on your platform of choice.

I actually really enjoyed it, and I think you will too. I'm excited to see them grow and see what happens. Again, we're all about lifting each other up up and positivity here. Kindness will always win. Don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts, Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, as well as welcome to Paradise It sucks in the old-time radio cast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts and don't forget. Finally, I'll see you guys on September 1st at 7pm Pacific over at twitch.tv slash Andie Tate Live for the special live stream video episode of Let's

Not Meet. See y'all next week, everyone, stay safe. I'm going to go back to the place where I'm going to go. I'm going to go back to the place where I'm going to go. I'm going to go back to the place where I'm going to go. I'm going to go back to the place where I'm going to go. I'm going to go back to the

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