Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x11: Summer in Paradise (Live Stream)

Episode Date: September 4, 2023

Stories in this episode: - Summer in Paradise, by John (1:27) - I Need to Get Some Sugar, by Nicole (12:45) - I Shouldn't Have Come Back, by Wes' Grandma (20:09) - The Prowler, by Ro (26:28) - Fake Shuttle Driver, by Anonymous (32:51) - Car Wash, by B (39:12) - The Man in the Trench Coat, by Casey (47:40) - The Pastor, by Andrew (58:58)  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! Download the DraftKings Casino app NOW, sign up with promo code MEET. Listen to A Ghost Ruined My Life with Eli Roth wherever you get your podcasts! Check it out at here!  Higher quality ingredients mean a healthier and happier life for your kitty. So head to Smalls.com/MEET and use promo code MEET at checkout for 50% off your first order PLUS free shipping! 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/andytatelive/

Do you think I would get involved with AC Real Killer? New this fall on W Network. Fun, right? We are literally going viral! True crime is an obsession. Jeopardy! Danger, stakes. Oh, that never dies. I thought one of us would be dead in a week or two.

We are in too deep. Starring Emmy Award nominee, Kaylee Cuoco, and Chris Messina. Help! Based on a true story, premiered September 11th, exclusively on W. Stream on Stack TV. Kaley Cuoco and Chris Messina. They's done a true story. From here September 11th, exclusively on W. Stream on Stack TV. This podcast contains adult language and content. Listen to discretion is advised.

If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. Music Welcome to the presentation of our live stream, Special Episode of Let's Not Meet. We've taken the audio from the event and put together a frightening episode of some of the most terrifying new tales narrated by a handful of returning guests, including Soren Narnia, Amanda Goodness, Cassidy Liston, Christine Sheifer, M. Schultz, Farron Moore, Shelby Scott, and yours truly. Some of the guests were creative with their performances and included music and sounds, so don't be too alarmed if you catch a jump scare. I'll see you on the other end.

Enjoy. My parents divorced in 1991 when I was 8 years old. My mom moved to Paradise, California, while my dad kept the house and stayed in the Bay Area. For the next three years, I was bouncing back and forth between both places, spending the school year in the Bay with my dad so I didn't have to change schools,

and then spending the summer up in paradise with my mom. She wanted to live closer to her family and took a job working at her aunt's business in Paradise. Well, it was great that I didn't have to leave my friends and start over to new school. I still preferred the house in Paradise. She was renting what we called the Granny House that was located on the same property where the landowner's house was. The Granny House was about the size of your average one bedroom apartment.

Well the house itself was nothing special. What I really loved was the property itself. It was huge. I don't even think I ever made it to the end of the property line in the entire time I spent there. Greg, the landowner, gave me a 12-year-old boy free rain of the entire 300 acres. I spent most of my time down by the creek catching frogs and sitting at my tent to camp out overnight by myself. Of course, I could never venture too far, but it still felt like my own little world where I could escape the trauma of the recent family breakup. Two years of living between parents had flown by,

and I was now beginning my third summer in paradise. However, this year was anything but paradise. I don't think anyone saw it coming. Greg, it was a fair landlord to me and my mom. He was a quiet guy and never really bothered us. We mostly loved him alone as well. We didn't know much about him except that he was a widower. Had to be somewhere in his sixties and kept to himself. He was a tall, sturdy guy whose hands felt like they could break a cement block.

He clearly endured some long, hard labor throughout his life, and you could feel it in those hands. He would use those hands to help around the house fairly often. I remember him fixing our stove, helping out with flashlight during a blackout, even fixing my mom's truck. The first few weeks of that third and final summer in paradise were just like any other. It was much hotter than the years prior, but in mind, I was just happy to be back in nature.

I was only child and spent the majority of my time with any friends. I liked playing by myself though I was used to it. One morning during the early dawn hours, I was down by the creek looking for rocks and frogs, and I was hit with a wave of anxiety. It was my first time experiencing the feeling of being watched, but I tried to ignore it and continue with what I was doing. The creek's water was still on a murky. Aside from the constant morning chatter of the frogs, everything was calm and silent. Aside from the constant morning chatter of the frogs, everything was calm and silent. I just kind of froze and waited for the feeling to pass. I then heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps nearby.

It sounded like they were coming from behind me. I quickly turned around and found Greg standing among the trees about 20 or 30 feet away from me. I nervously waved and greeted him and asked him what he was up to. He looked at me with a blank expression. There was no response. I hesitated for a moment and I asked if he was okay. He continued to stare, just standing there like an emotionless statue. My words weren't even registering for him. Greg was there, but nobody was home.

I felt like I was starting back at a stranger, not the man that I had spent the last two summers with. He'd always been a quiet guy, but he would never just ignore you. He was always polite, and at the very least, he'd give you a nod or a smile. It was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like an hour that we stood there looking at each other. My gut was in knots as I was preparing myself to run for my life. I don't know why, but I just knew this wasn't a good situation. Just as I was about to take off in the opposite direction, Greg took a deep breath and sighed,

breaking the silence. He then turned around and walked right back into the woods without a single word. As soon as he was out of sight, I booked it for the house. When I told my mom about what happened with Greg in the woods, she said that he might just be tired or confused. After all, he was an older man who didn't talk much to begin with. I accepted this answer, but I didn't like it. Something was wrong, but there was much I could do. The next few days were even quieter than usual. Greg, who would normally spend the morning was working in the shed and tinkering away,

didn't even leave the house. We didn't hear a sound from him until one night. When my mom and I were awoken, by a deafening scream that seemed to have come from Greg's house. I looked at the clock in the wall at 2am. We rushed to the window that faced Greg's house. All the lights in every room of his two-story farmhouse were on. The place was lit up like he was having a party or something. We jumped at the sound of a second scream. My mom clearly concerned for Greg's well-being told me to stay put while she went to check on him. I had bathed her and continued to watch from the window as my mom threw in some clothes and ran up to his front door. Unfortunately, the front door was around the corner from my view of his house, so I wasn't

able to track my mom's progress or see what happened. The moment my mom disappeared around the corner of the house, the sound of a gunshot rang out. My mom immediately reappeared from around the corner, running straight back to the house. I was in shock as my mom entered the house and a frenzy slamming the door shut and locking it. She grabbed me by the arm, practically flung me into the bathroom and told me to stay there while she called the police. Our landline was in the kitchen so that left me in the bathroom alone. My mom began explaining the situation to the police. She gave them our address and began describing what happened when she was interrupted by a loud bang on our front door.

Greg was now wailing on our door with his large, heavy fists and screaming unintelligiblely at the top of his lungs. My mom shrieked into the phone, he's at the door! I sat on the bathroom floor as tears rolled up in my eyes. At 11 years old, I could barely even process what was happening. I felt like it was outside my body. I guess I kind of disassociated at the moment and blacked out because the next thing I knew, the bathroom door was shut and my mom was on the floor holding me, bawling her eyes out and praying to God. The screaming and the banging at the door had stopped. Everything was silent. I can't explain how it happened, but I was just so thankful for that moment. My mom continued

to pray with me in her arms, rocking back and forth for a while until the cops finally showed up. with me in her arms rocking back and forth for a while until the cops finally showed up. They put me and my mom into a cop car, and one of the officers began to ask us questions as a few of the others began to search the premises for Greg, who was nowhere to be found. The police drove us to a motel after some more questioning and told us that they'd contact us as soon as Greg was apprehended. And they would leave an officer parked in the motel lot overnight. The following morning, the officer came up to the hotel room. They said that they'd searched both houses and the surrounding property.

They took some time to find them. My stomach dropped when they said that they had found him passed out on the ground down by the creek, the same creek I spent nearly every day at. But they said that when you look at the hospital, he had no recollection of anything from the past week. My gut was right when I saw him that day, down by the creek. It wasn't Greg. I was looking at it because Greg wasn't home. I don't know what happened to Greg or what came of the two houses or his property because we immediately moved in with my aunt the following day. I was sent

back to my dad's house for the rest of the summer while my mom figured out what to do. She decided to move back to the Bay Area to keep our family closer together. I don't know if the police gave her any more details, but what happened with Greg or not because she never talked about it again. The subject was off limits for a long time. My mom passed away a few months ago and I figured now would be a good time to share this story. It also seems like a good time to say, Greg, let's not meet. When I told my feline owner of a friend about smalls, she immediately perked up. She told me that she had heard of them,

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That's the best offer you'll find, but you have to use my code meet M-E-E-T for 50% off your first order. One last time. That's promo code meet for 50% off your first order plus free shipping. Now back to the show. This happened to me when I was about 12. Over the summer, sometime during the early 2000s, my family consists of myself, my two older brothers and my parents. We lived together in this picturesque new England home near Lake Champlain in Vermont. That summer,

a new neighbor moved in. Let's call him Mark. Mark was always around our house spending time with our family. He was divorced and had a son about the age of one of my brothers. My dad and Mark got along famously and he was always around our house. My dad loved barbecuing with Mark during that summer. He was a bit odd to me since he always made a special effort to come and say hi to me, specifically when he was at our house or when I was outside. This used to weird me out, so I started to hide in my room whenever I saw him around. That's when he started running. Every morning, at sunrise, under my window. My bed was directly under this large, two-framed window, facing some beautiful woods. I loved waking

up to the bird singing each morning, but then I would see Mark always stopping to rest and stretch right under my window. It felt like he would stay there until he was able to make eye contact with me. When he achieved this, he would wave and then continue on his run. So I started closing my windows and putting some blankets up as makeshift curtains at night to prevent him from being able to look into my room in the morning. When that summer ended, I thought I had seen the last of Mark as the barbecues were less frequent and fall was right around the corner. But Mark's son went to the same high school as my brothers. So, Mark offered to drive us all to school as he was unemployed and had the availability to drive us around in the mornings and afternoons.

I was in middle school at this time, so I went to a different school than the rest of the group. Mark would drop off my two brothers and his son at their high school first, and then drive another 10 minutes with me alone in the car to my school. He always tried to chat with me in the car, but I was a shy kid.

And being around Mark really worried me, so I would often give vague or dismissive answers while watching the road and preparing to jump out of the car as soon as he slowed down in front of my school. I would constantly tell my parents about my concerns about Mark, that they were dismissed by them as they defended him by saying, he's just being silly Mark, and nothing to worry about. Fast forward to October of that year. There was a pretty decent rainstorm going on, and my parents had gone out on a date for the evening.

My older brother was out with friends, and my eldest brother had snuck out to go to a party with some of his high school buddies. It was a particularly strong storm, so the power went out in the neighborhood. I was a bit of a neurotic child, so I went around the house and found all our candles and then checked the doors and windows, locking every last one of them. After that, I sat down on our couch in the living room and started reading by candlelight. Behind the couch we had this nice double-pained window that faced our backyard and back porch. I was uneasy sitting by the window, so I kept checking over my shoulder because I felt like I was being watched. But I didn't notice anything or anyone, so I allowed myself to get into the book I was reading.

Then suddenly, I heard knocking on the window, right next to me, I jumped and screamed and when I looked over, I saw Mark's face inches away from the window. He was waving at me and beckoning me to come outside. I knew Mark was aware that my parents were out on the town, as my dad had disgusted with him earlier that day before taking us to school. I just stopped and looked at him for a while confused, then I heard him muffle through the window as he asked, Hey, can you open the back door?" I said,

My parents aren't home. He replied, oh, I know that. I just need a little help. I didn't want to open the back door, but I was taught to be kind to our neighbors and try to help whenever possible. So, when I went to open the door, but before I removed the deadbolt, I put the chain lock in place. I cracked the door open ever so slightly, and Mark said, Sorry to bother you, but can I come in?" I said, no, and asked him what he needed. He replied, I'm baking some cookies at my house, but I don't have any sugar.

Can I come in and grab some sugar? A very crooked smile crept across his face, considering all the rain and wind that night. It felt like I was in a situation straight out of a horror movie. I said, excuse me, then he demanded, I need to get some sugar. I thought about this for a second and said,

uh, you can't possibly be making cookies right now. The power is out in the entire neighborhood. He hesitated before replying, oh, I just wanted to be ready to get started on these cookies when the power comes back on. And with that, I felt him push his body weight heavily against the door. The chain lock engaged so the door wouldn't only open partially. Think goodness I put the chain lock in place before opening the door because I would have not have been able to hold the door myself with him forcing his weight on it. I was a whopping 95 pounds at that time so a strong gust of wind could have easily lifted me off the ground. Once he noticed that the door was chained, he backed up a few steps, lowered his voice, and insisted,

"'Come on, it's just me. Mark, it'll only take a second.'" I said, no, and slammed the door. Then he stood behind the door, staring at me for what felt like an eternity before hanging his head into feet, and walking back into the darkness. Then, I went around the entire house and pulled down as many drapes as I could, and waited for my parents to return from their date. I told them everything that happened when they got home. And that was the last time I ever saw Mark.

I don't know what he would have wanted for me that night. I don't know if my parents talked to him. If they did talk to him, I have no idea what they might have said. I often think back on that evening as an adult and remember the odd, shifty way he was around me. My mind swirls when I think about what could have happened to me if I didn't think to engage the chainlock.

So to the man who thought it was totally okay to demand sugar from a little girl when she was home alone in the middle of a power outage during a rainstorm, to do God knows what. I hope we never meet again. And to all the women out there, always trust your God. I've had custody of my two eldest grandchildren since the early 2000s. After my second grandchild was born, we all moved to Ohio for a little bit. Once they were a little bit older, we decided Ohio wasn't for us, so we moved to West Virginia into my mother's old house for a fresh new start. The house itself wasn't anything special,

but it came with some land which made all of us happy since we didn't have that back in Ohio. Growing up, my mom would tell me stories about how she was afraid of the house. She told me that she would hear strange noises coming from outside, as well as tapping on the windows of her bedroom at odd times of the night. I figured she was just trying to scare me, so I honestly just brushed these stories off and put them in the back of my mind. Honestly, I wish I would have believed her. I wish I didn't go back to live in her old house. This happened on Christmas Eve at two o'clock in the morning.

I walked into the children's room and peeked to see if they were asleep and they were. I was beyond excited for them to wake up and see the Christmas presents under the tree and watch their faces glow as they unwrap the paper. I had the presents hidden in my car outside so they wouldn't go looking around the house for them. I grabbed my car keys, unlocked the front door and stepped onto the porch outside. The moment I stepped outside, I had an uneasy feeling, but I shrugged it off and carried

on. I stepped off the porch and onto the patio beside the corner of the house. That feeling of dread stuck with me as I walked past the corner and towards the car. I unlocked the car and started to gather some of the presence in my arms. Then I set off in the direction of the house. I heard a noise coming from the back of the house, but I didn't see anything.

I assumed it was an animal or something, so I carried on with bringing presence inside the house. I put the presence under the tree, but I couldn't bring everything in it once, so I repeated the process. I walked onto but I couldn't bring everything in it once, so I repeated the process. I walked onto the porch and back onto the patio. This time, that sense of dread was even stronger.

As I turned to walk past the edge of the house, all the hairs on my body started to raise. I was frozen with fear. I had just felt someone or something breathed hot heavy air on the back of my neck. I knew I wasn't losing it because it was nearly 10 degrees out. I was so scared, I didn't dare turn around. After a moment I just said to myself, I'm going to get the presence, go back inside and not come back out. I walked to the car and fiddled with my keys to unlock it.

As it unlocked the interior lights of the car flashed and on the ground I saw a set of footprints that weren't mine. I immediately hurled myself into the car and locked it. I sat in my car for about an hour until I finally had enough courage to make a run for it and go back outside. I gathered the rest of the presents and hit the unlock button. I opened the door and flung myself out of it, passing the footprints that didn't belong to me. I got back onto the patio where I felt the hot breath of air hit my neck and I froze again. I was just stuck in that moment.

I don't know how to explain it. I heard something from the back of the house again and I just went into full on panic mode. I started screaming like a mad woman for whoever or whatever it was to show itself. I heard the sound of someone walking to the corner of the house where I was standing and that was enough for me to snap out of it.

I practically threw the presents all over the yard and ran back into the house slamming the door shut behind me. I went into the kids' room and stayed in there for the rest of the night so I wasn't alone with my thoughts. In the morning, the kids woke me up and asked me if they could open the presents. That's when it hit me. I had left half of them outside scattered across the yard. I didn't know what to tell them, so I let them open the presents under the tree and told

them that I would be right back with more. I opened the door and my heart almost jumped out of my body. The presence were torn to shreds in the snow and wrapping paper was all over the yard. I couldn't even comprehend anything because it all came back to me at that very moment. I don't remember what I told the kids about their presence that year, but I do know that we got out of there as soon as we could. I should have

listened to my mom when I had the chance. I should have never come back. I'm sure plenty of you are familiar with Eli Roth. He's directed Hostel, Cabin Fever, and The Green and Ferno, and he hosts two podcasts. He's one of the best. On a ghost ruin to my life with Eli Roth, from Travel Channel, here are the real-life stories of people who have been through terrifying confrontations with the unknown and come out alive. For this podcast, Roth has gone through hundreds of submissions from real people whose lives have been ravaged by a ghost demon or sinister entity.

Each episode focuses on one person's story, handpicked and introduced by Roth, and retold by the victims themselves. They talk about some of the most terrifying, unexplainable events that they've experienced, and now you can listen to a new season of all new, real-life stories of terror on a ghost ruined my life. Listen to a ghost ruin to my life by Eli Roth wherever you get your podcasts. I live in Jacksonville, Florida, and this happened to be consistently for a few months back in 2022. I was living in a really nice apartment complex with my cousin and her girlfriend. We lived in a ground level, two bedroom, two bath apartment unit.

The apartment layout won't be hard for you to imagine, but I have to share it since it's important for the story. My room was on the right side of the apartment. This apartment had two patios. One outside of the living room and one outside of my room. My patio wasn't enclosed. It was more so just a kind of space outside my room that other residents walked on to get to their apartments. This space was in front of a high concrete wall that separated the building and walkway

from some tall bushes and gardens. So at night, due to it being dimly lit by the lamp post behind the wall, it seemed more like a dark alley than a patio or walkway. This area didn't experience too much foot traffic, but it still kind of freaked me out since I had a sliding glass door facing this walkway. One night I was watching TV and laying in bed with my cat, Pikachu. Cats are always on high alert, so thank god my cat was there. I fell asleep and woke up around 4 in the morning.

I was half asleep when I heard scratching at my sliding doors. It sounded like what you would hear if you were sitting in your car and someone walked past and grazed against your window. My head snapped towards a sliding door and so did Pika choose, which confirmed I wasn't just hearing things. I had big curtains covering the door, but there was a tiny sliver in the middle where someone could peek through. If someone made the effort to do this, they would have a clear view of my bed. Oh hell no. What I saw when I looked over at the door almost made me jump out of my skin.

I saw a light from a laser pointer. You know like the ones you get from the store for your cats to play with? My room was dark other than the light from the TV. After listening to so many podcasts, I knew I should stay calm and not say anything, but my fight or flight kicked in. I'm a 5'10 woman and I'm also thick, so it was hard to not make any noise while getting out of my really tall bed. As I crouched down to the floor, I saw two black shoes on the ground, standing right outside

my sliding door. My heart was pounding. I ran out of my room hyperventilating and crying, and I knocked on my cousin's bedroom door. My heart was pounding. I ran out of my room hyperventilating and crying, and I knocked on my cousin's bedroom door. She opened it after a few minutes, and I frantically told her what was going on. She went outside and said no one was there. I stayed in the living room for the rest of the night, and I couldn't fall back asleep until the sun came up. A week later, I had my sister over, and I was getting ready to go hang out with a friend. I had my curtains pulled aside to let some sunlight into the room. When I came back home later on, I told my

sister about what happened a week prior. What she said next gave me a panic attack. She said she saw a man watching me from the edge of the patio outside of my room while I was getting ready. I asked her why she didn't say anything and she said, because she assumed the guy must have been a friend of mine. Hearing about this was so weird and I was pissed. A few nights later I was cleaning my room. I had just taken a shower so I was wearing a bra and some underwear. I suddenly felt like someone was staring at me. I have legitimate chills. My curtains were pulled closed. However, since the sliding glass doors were so tall, the curtains didn't fully reach the ground. There was a small space to peek into my room from the bottom.

I never really minded it much because it was such a small space. Someone would have to make a pretty big effort to position themselves in a way to be able to see anything. I slowly walked over to the curtains, making it seem like I was preoccupied with cleaning. I hopped on the bed to stand over the top of the curtains so I could look down below. Oh my God. Then, I saw a man. I started to have a panic attack once again and ran to knock on my cousin's door. She was at work so I told her girlfriend what happened. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and ran outside.

But no one was there. At that point, I was over it. I called my mom and her boyfriend and they came over while I called the police. Her boyfriend looked around outside my sliding glass door. I was out there with my flashlight as well since it was dark out. In the bottom left corner of the sliding door, you could see that a whole corner had the dust from outside wiped off, and there were fingerprints. Someone had purposely wiped all the dust away so that they could crouch down and have a clear view of my room. It was sickening. When I told the officer about it, he didn't really seem to care. He had actually left in the middle of taking my report for another

call. He just left me with a piece of paper. He classified the incident as prowling and said if it happened again, I should call the station. After that, I invested in a security camera. I had it set up in the corner of my room so that I could see the whole walkway in front of my sliding door. It had motion sensors and night vision. One night, I got a notification of motion outside. When I accessed my camera, I saw a man standing in front of my door smoking. It was weird. There was plenty of space outside in the walkway for this man to smoke in front of his own apartment.

I'm not sure why he chose to be right outside my door to smoke late at night. I snapped a picture from my camera footage and told my apartment complex about these recurring incidents. Our apartment was in a gated community with security guards around 24-7. The only way someone could get into the complex and access the walkways was with the code that only residents were given upon moving in. Everyone was given a unique code to let themselves in. When a code was entered at the gate, it automatically calls a cell phone

linked to the code for double authentication of the code. Once the code is also entered on the cell phone, that's when the gate will unlock to let you in. So that means whoever this man was lived in the complex too. He had to. I can't help but wonder how long he had been watching me before I noticed. This was a very scary and uncomfortable experience considering I was home alone a majority of the time.

I was also single, so I didn't have a significant other to call for backup, making it even scarier. Now I live in a different apartment complex with my boyfriend. I haven't had any other occurrences since moving out of that complex. So to my mystery neighbor who resided somewhere near me and consistently prowled outside my sliding glass door, let's not meet because my boyfriend won't hesitate to confront you. I'm a teenager from Northwest Arkansas where mountain biking is a really popular hobby and something I took up at a young age as it's a common interest of my dads. When my parents noticed that I was riding further and further away from the house, my dad gives me a small pocket knife and advised me to always carry it with me in my pack as a

fail safe. As I got older and progressed my mountain biking skills further, I started to look into racing. Eventually I started to look into racing. Eventually I started entering cross-country races which I quickly outgrew, and from there I was introduced to Enduro Racing which is, in my opinion, a lot more enjoyable and better suited to my interests. As I shared my thoughts with my parents about racing Enduro's, we learned that the first race of the season was going to be at Mount Nibbo, which was about 3 and a half hours away from where we live.

When it was time to leave for the race, me and my buddy who all called Alan, loaded our bikes and gear into the back of my parents' forerunner and got on the road. Everything was going great and we were getting increasingly excited as we got closer and closer to the park. When we finally got there, the first evening consisted of settling into the cabin that we were staying at and going up to the race venue to complete our registration. After that we returned back to the cabin for the night which was not what we expected but it was still fun. Throughout the night Alan and I formulated a plan for the pre-ride portion of our race which was going to occur the coming

day. A pre-ride essentially allows all the writers to walk and or ride the course in order to get a feel for what they'll be racing on. Our plan was as follows. I was supposed to ride while taking video of all the obstacles and trails for stages 1 through 3, and then Alan was supposed to do the same for 4 through 7. Then at the end of the day, we would meet back up and share our findings. Now that hindsight is 2020, yes I know it wasn't the smartest thing to do, especially considering that we were not the brightest most knowledgeable people in the world and had no idea what Mount Nibbo would be like, but at the time we thought our plan was genius.

After we were dropped off at the top of the mountain, we went our respective ways down to where we would be writing. Everything seemed to be going well until I got to the bottom of the second stage. For the pre-ride day, all of the writers had shuttle privileges granted by the Enduro Directors, which basically meant we could get rides from one stage to the other. These shuttles were big vans with the capacity to hold bikes and carry riders, knowing that a shuttle was coming I sat at the bottom of the trail by myself and waited for about 5 minutes. After five long minutes of scrolling Instagram, a white van with a big red bike rack rolled up.

The man driving the van, who, to my best knowledge, seemed to be about 5'8", and maybe 120 pounds, motioned for me to get in to which my naive self complied. After loading my bike onto the rack and sitting down in the backseat of the van, the driver pulled onto the road at an alarming rate. At the time it didn't set off any alarm bells, but it definitely should have. When we finally got on the road, I took out one of my air pods and attempted to make small talk with him. The man eagerly started asking me about myself, what's your name, how old you are,

where are you from? And he seemed friendly enough until the questions grew progressively personal. What does your bedroom look like? What kind of underwear do you wear? What kind of deodorant do you use? Then things took a turn for the worst when he literally took a turn, going the opposite way back up to the top of the mountain. From there the questions became more aggressive and I started to realize something was up. After I asked the man why he hadn't taken the right turn, he sped up without answering. After that I repeatedly told him to let me out of the van to no avail. At this point I remember the pocket knife in my pack. I've never been more grateful for my dad advising me to always have this on hand. I pulled it

out, releasing the blade loudly enough for him to hear the click of the mechanism unlocking. This caught his attention and he started to slow the man down and pull over. As soon as the van came to a stop, I picked my helmet back up and got out of the van without retracting the knife or taking my eyes off the man. Then I walked behind the van, disconnecting my bike, and watched him pull away as fast as he had pulled onto the road when I first got in. That was when I realized that I'd obviously gotten into some strangers' vehicle and not an Enduro-provided shuttle, and it freaked me out. After about 45 minutes of pedaling, I finally got to the point where I was high enough on

the mountain to have enough cell service to call Allen and explain my situation, and after that we met back up at the race venue. To this day, my parents still have no idea about that experience. I had that morning during my pre-ride, and it's going to stay that way. And to the fake shuttle driver, let's never meet again. How many of you wish there was a better solution to paying off your debt? PDS debt has customized 0% interest options for anybody struggling with credit cards, personal loans, collections, or medical bills, with rising interest rates and the cost of living at an all-time high. Now is the time to finally take initiative with your debt.

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just for completing the quick and easy debt assessment at www.pdsdett.com slash meet. That's pdsdet.com slash meet. Take back your financial freedom today by visiting pdsdett.com slash meet. Take back your financial freedom today by visiting pds.com slash meet. One week and I had some plans that wound up getting canceled. I desperately needed a car wash as I had recently taken my dog hiking with me. It was about one or two in the afternoon and beautiful outside, so I drove over to the

nearest car wash. Even though I chose to do this, I was anxious about it for some reason. I had been stressed from work so I shrugged off how I felt, assuming my uneasy feeling was due to that. I live in a city in the south that has a high crime rate so naturally I'm always on high alert. My environment gets to me sometimes so on this day I was actively forcing myself to chill out. There were two car washes close to where I lived. One was on a very busy, difficult to drive on road, and the other was new and pretty, but on the corner of a street in a not-so-great area. I opted for the newer one to avoid messy traffic.

Minding my own business, I went through the car wash and then parked at a vacuum station aways away from the other people, so no one would approach or bother me. I was in the absolute last doll in the row, all alone. Everything was fine until I had been cleaning out my car for about 10 minutes. I had a weird feeling, so I shifted areas and put my phone in the glove box in case someone tried to walk up behind me to take it out of my pocket. I also took out my headphones so I could hear what was going on around me. I was actually listening to this very podcast as I was cleaning my car. While listening to these stories is

a helpful reminder to always be on the lookout, that may have kicked up my anxiety a bit. After I was done cleaning the interior of my car, I started taking some stuff out of my trunk so I could vacuum it. As I walked to a trash can to throw something out, I heard a man calling out to me from a vehicle parked right next to me. Remember, I intentionally parked far away from other cars. I figured he was just trying to cat-call me, so I ignored him as long as I possibly could. He rolled his backseat window all the way down, before loudly saying, excuse me, over the loud noise of the vacuum I asked, yes, he asked if I needed help vacuuming, and I

politely told him, no thank you, while thinking, that's a new one. But then he asked again, and again. Alarm bells were going off, but I was numb. Even though I had already declined his assistance multiple times, he tried to ask one more time. And finally, I was pissed. I looked over, made eye contact, cut him off as he was speaking, and told him I was married and didn't need nor want his help.

I was slightly stretching the truth here as I was just engaged at the time. And with that, he rolled his window back up. I continued backfuming a bit more, but I began to wrap it up while attempting not to be obvious as trying to leave ASAP. Then I heard someone calling out to me again from the same SUV. This time it was a very young, meek woman rocking an infant in her lap. There was no car seat in the vehicle, which was extremely odd.

She was just cradling a tiny baby that was way too young to not be in a proper carrier. She was in the front passenger seat, and there was another man sitting next to her in the driver's seat. His seat was reclined all the way back, so I couldn't get a good look at him. I kid you not, I could see his eyes peering around the edge of the car door from the shadows,

which sent a tingle down the back of my neck. It was creepy as hell. I knew I had to get out of there quickly, but I was only halfway through a massive deep clean, and I had pulled everything out of my car. The young lady asked me multiple times if I was okay. I kept answering her saying, yes, I'm fine, getting progressively rudder in my responses. I even looked at her like I thought she was bat shit crazy. She

was being overly polite, letting me know that they could come vacuum my car for me and that I shouldn't worry about it. I sternly said, as I've said, no thanks, I got it, and started shoving my things back in my trunk while giving them my hardest bitch face. Why was I giving them such nasty looks? Because the creep in the backseat who was initially talking to me was on the phone describing me in detail to someone. And after he was done describing me, I heard him say, Yeah, we found her.

Y'all, I could not freaking believe this crap was actually happening to me. I wasn't scared even though I probably should have been. I was completely numb. I immediately shut the trunk, grabbed my keys, went to the front seat, and locked my car because I had this awful overwhelming feeling. I felt like the man in the back seat of that SUV was going to try something. I was irritated as I turned to pick up my math on the ground, and I gathered my hiking

gear and other items I had taken out of my trunk, and I was trying to do this quickly as I'm not a very big person and knew my chances weren't great against two large men. Once I had everything back in my car, including myself, I locked the doors quickly. These people were still just sitting in their SUV staring at me. I couldn't bring myself to leave as I knew they'd follow me. So I tapped my fiance's name on my car's radio screen, turned the volume all the way up and cracked my windows. Hello, he said, hey, something's wrong. I'm at the car wash, the people next to me are describing me to someone over the phone. They're trying to traffic me. I stayed in loudly.

I was hoping to somehow draw attention to the situation over the loud, vacuuming noises surrounding us. As soon as I said that, they sped out of the car wash as fast as they could. I let my fiance know that they left and that I was going to drive up the main busy street nearby and then weave through a large neighborhood. I wanted to do this just in case

whoever was on the other end of that sketchy phone call was still around. I drove around for 30 minutes, paranoid as hell. While talking to them, I noticed that they had out-of-state plates on their car, and that their car was dirty. They hadn't even been through the car wash. They just pulled through and parked in a vacuum stall near the exit where they had a good advantage point. None of them ever got out of their SUV. They were just there with bad intentions trying to lure me into whatever they had planned. That's when I realized I put myself in a vulnerable position by parking far away from others

in a spot where I could clearly be seen from the road. I consume so much true crime media to keep me on my toes, but even with that kind of preparation, I still feel like I made mistakes in the situation. I should have noticed the moment they parked next to me. I should have had my phone on me instead of tucked away in the glove box. And throughout this whole experience, I constantly kept doubting my gut instincts. It just makes me so mad that I can't get gas or wash my dang car without having an encounter sometimes.

The moral of the story here is always be aware of your surroundings, even on a beautiful, unassuming Sunday afternoon. And don't be afraid to be rude. I should have told them all to fuck off from the start. But as many of these stories go, I was raised to be polite, so doing so is literally ingrained in me. The good news is that I didn't have any follow-up encounters from this, and my father-in-law was kind enough to buy a shop vac for me and my husband so that I wouldn't have to vacuum my car in public anymore.

So, to the creepy strangers who failed to lure me at the car wash, you suck! Let's not meet ever again. When I was eight years old, I encountered a man who would continue to torture me unprovoked for many years. My family and I lived on a busy street in town. We lived in a relatively new development with new houses popping up left and right. It was known as the nicer part of town, where the homeowners generally had decent incomes. Both of my parents worked at a well-paying plant in town. They bought our house while it was still in construction, so we were really the first ones that ever lived there. It

was a big, beautiful house on a very large plot of land with a big back yard and a multi-level deck. The house also came with a huge above-ground pool and a hot tub. There was an attached shed that was partially under the tallest deck, and that small roof of the shed extended out past the deck, and we often hung out on it. This small roofed area was probably about 10 feet by 12 feet. Our entire backyard was fenced in, aside from one spot, which was facing the road. This unfenced spot was also next to the shed, but we had a tall chain-linked panel installed in that space. All of this started one night when my friend Morgan, who lived up the road, and I were

playing basketball in my driveway. It was summer, and it was humid, and after taking a short break, we started another game of horse. We figured we could squeeze in one more game before we had to go inside, since the streetlights were just coming on. Morgan only lived three houses down, so our parents were pretty laid back and didn't worry too much since we were always aware of where each other was. As Morgan took his shot, a man we'd never seen before appeared on the sidewalk behind us. We found it a little odd because he was wearing ratty jeans and a trench coat.

It was July in Wisconsin. It was disgustingly gross outside this time of year, even after the sun starts to go down. This man's hair was long, like past his shoulders, and it was so greasy that you could see it separating into thick chunks. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and his cheeks were sunken in, with bags under his eyes, unmistakably gray skin. Morgan had made his shot, so I took his place and made the shot as well. But the ball bounced off the rim and rolled all the way to the man who was now walking past my driveway.

I'm not sure what triggered him because the ball stopped about two feet away from him, but he stopped dead in his tracks. He stood there, staring at the ball. Morgan and I stood still, completely weirded out by this man as he continued to stare at the ball. We were both frozen, not knowing what to do. Morgan lifted his foot with the intention of walking towards the ball when the man's head snapped in our direction. We were further back along the driveway closer to my garage, so there was a good 50 feet of distance between us. Then suddenly, he took off sprinting towards us.

He had no expression on his face, just a dead gaze, and it was glued on us. We ran into my garage and quickly hit the button to close it. We walked through the door into the garage, leading to my house, and slammed it behind us. My mom asked us why the hell we were running like crazy when Morgan and I fearfully told her what happened. By the time my mom went outside, there was no trace of the man, and the basketball was still sitting in the grass, right where it had stopped rolling. Fast forward about three years later, and it's my 11th birthday. It had been a few rough years after my mom and dad's divorce, so my mom let me have a big

slumber party. We were living in the same home, but it was probably going to be my last year there, since my mom couldn't afford to stay there on her own. It was entirely too much space for just my mom, my sister, and me, after my dad and my half-sister had moved out. My slumber party consisted of me and eight other girls. My mom's boyfriend was over, and they were watching a movie. We were eating pizza and gossiping about the standard 11-year-old girl stuff when we asked my mom if we could go out for a nighttime swim. It was around 10.30 at night, but the pool had lights and there were lights all along the multi-level deck, so it wasn't too dark in the pool area. There were five girls in the pool playing chicken and the rest of us

were just hanging out on that small roof of the shed attached to the deck. My friend Brittany said that there was someone looking over the fence. We blew her off at first because she liked to play jokes to get a rise out of you. She sounded scared, so we decided to look, but we saw nothing. Nearly panicking, she told us, no, guys, I swear he's just right there. Her comments and energy really shifted the mood of the party. Everyone that was in the pool got out and joined us up on the tallest deck. A few of us were sitting on the top of the shed looking around while the others were

on the lounge chairs on the deck. As we all sat around listening to music and talking, Brittany said, there, there he is again. She pointed towards the front yard. I looked and I saw nothing. I told her she had to stop because she was freaking everyone out. She scooted closer to me and kept looking over her shoulder and then all of a sudden, I got an eerie feeling. I looked past Britney at the front yard and there was the man.

I saw him. He's standing in my front yard near the sidewalk, and it was the same man with the same long greasy hair, wearing the same trench coat. And he was staring right at us. I quietly told everyone that we needed to go inside right away. Of course, they noticed where I was looking, and they saw the man as well.

Everyone started screaming and running back into the house. We scrambled and he ran towards us. He hit that tall chain link fence panel and started to climb. I got over the railing ushered everyone back inside slammed the door shut and locked it. We all ran into my mom's room and hid in her closet. As we were all saying something about a creepy man, my mom's room and hid in her closet. As we were all saying something about a creepy man, my mom's boyfriend ran outside with a metal baseball bat. After an extensive search by him, he returned and said that he did find footprints in the neighbor's

yard in the mud, where they had just laid new grass. So we did call the police. The cops came out, they took a look around, they asked us some questions, but after taking our report they just left, and I spent the entire night awake as my friends slept. Three years later, my mom, my sister, and I had moved into a new place. We moved out of the house where I encountered the man in the trench coat, and now we are living in a duplex. It was the same street that our old house happened to be on, but the duplexes were on the other side of the main highway.

Living on this side was a bit more secluded and more properties were in development. The duplex we had moved into was by-level. You would walk in the front door to a landing and two sets of stairs. The stairs going up took you to the top level with the living room, kitchen, and main bathroom. The stairs leading you down took you to the top level with the living room, kitchen, and main bathroom. The stairs leading you down took you to a lower level with another living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and

a laundry room. My sister and I had our bedrooms downstairs, and our windows were level with the ground. My teen mind considered this a win since I figured if I ever wanted to sneak out, all I had to do was climb out my window and I would be on the ground level. No need to jump out. We moved in December. There wasn't and I would be on the ground level. No need to jump out. We moved in December. There wasn't a ton of snow on the ground yet, roughly five inches. And my mom was out with her boyfriend and friends

while my sister was spending the night with one of her friends. So I was home alone. As teenagers tend to do, I got a wild hair at my ass to rearrange my room. Although we had just moved in a few weeks prior, I decided I didn't like how it was arranged. I had music playing, but kept hearing in an odd sound coming from my window. Sometimes my neighbor's door would graze my window,

so I just assumed that's what it was. But when I quickly pulled my cord on my shades, I found myself face to face, with the same person who had been giving me nightmares since I was eight years old. His long greasy hair was longer than ever, and it clung to my window as he rested his forehead against it. A spot on the window fogged up from his heavy breathing, I stood there frozen, not knowing what to do. Slowly, I backed out of the room while he continued to stand there, with both of his hands pressed up against the glass of my window. My back hit the doorknob, which triggered me to just run upstairs. I ran up there and I hid in my mom's room.

I called my mom in an emotional panic. Tears were running down my face, and I was hyperventilating. I was trying to explain what was going on to her. She was home within 10 minutes, quickly followed by the police. They found footprints in the snow surrounding my window, and they saw the handprints clear as day on the glass. They asked so many questions, but left us with little to no answers. They said unless the man did something harmful, there wasn't much they could do. They searched the area looking for the man who fit my description and found nothing. I stopped sleeping in my bedroom and slept in the upstairs living room, because that's

where I knew there was no way he could see me. Now I'm in my thirties, but his gaunt face and greasy hair still haunt me to this day. So to the creepy man in the trench coat, let's not meet. Step into a world of non-stop action with DraftKings Casino. You can play classics like Blackjack, Relette, and Slots, Plus enjoy exclusive games that you can't find anywhere else. Right now new customers can get a deposit match up to $100 in casino credits when you deposit $5 or more. All you have to do is sign up,

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of the summer. My two younger siblings joined them since they were 13 and 11. They invited me to join since I would have graduated high school by that point, and they also invited my girlfriend to come along. My parents were asked to live on-site at the boarding school, since school funds were being stolen. Children were not being fed. Teachers always skipped out, and nobody was coming forward, with where the missing money was going. So, we all arrived at the airport in Uganda in the middle of the night.

Transportation was supposed to be arranged ahead of time, but as we came to realize, the person responsible for organizing everything for us wasn't reliable. We stayed the night in Kampala, and we made our way to the town where we would spend the next year. However, the rest of the family stayed for just over two years. On our first real day in town, we were going to meet the school staff and get a tour of

the facility. The man who ran and founded the boarding school was a pastor with a small church in town. It seemed that everybody knew who he was when we mentioned that we were working with him. We chalked this up to him having a good reputation and doing good work around the town. We were wrong. So this Ugandan pastor steps out of his 2001 Toyota pickup wearing a full Canadian tuxedo, cowboy boots, and a large cowboy hat. Call it intuition or gut feeling, but this over the top western where immediately made me feel skeptical of this man.

And just so everyone knows, this was not the typical look of the local towns people. This man shook our hands and was very enthusiastic about us being there. You know how you can tell that somebody is lying when they're over exaggerating? Well, that's what he was doing. I just didn't have a good feeling. He led us to the boarding school where we were supposed to be living and working. When we got there, this school was not what you'd think of as a boarding school. Most people would picture something straight out of a Harry Potter book, but no.

This was a dirt compound with concrete living spaces and huts. I'm someone who loves outdoor living in minimalistic lifestyles, so I thought that this could be interesting. However, the house that we were living in was way too small for our family of six, but the pastor was not only adamant about us living on side, he was also adamant about us living in that house specifically. Eventually my parents made the executive decision that living in a tiny home that was infested with rats and bats wasn't going to be something we were going to do. After addressing this with the pastor, he still really wanted us to stay there.

About a month after our arrival, the pastor told us that an Islamic community had decided that they were going to be looking an Islamic community had decided that they were going to be looking for and killing any Americans that they found around town. Now we were obviously scared and a little worried. However, after asking around, it became very obvious this was a lie. I can only assume after considering everything that took place, he hoped that this would cause us to leave the country. But we didn't.

The next month after that, he came by to tell us that our water was being shut off with no estimated time as to when it would be back on. Again, this was a lie. As the months progressed, we noticed that we would get many uninvited people arriving on our doorstep, saying that the pastor sent them to check on us. Within the year that I lived there, the pastor took us to all sorts of events and parties to show off that he had us as friends. I believe that this was an attempt to show people how dangerous he was and display that he could even control the new people in town. He would also try and order my dad around as if he were his

personal employee or a servant. My dad made it clear that he wasn't going to be treated that way and that's when things hit the fan. I left shortly after the one-year mark, which is about a month before things got really crazy. One day, after I left, I woke up to a voice message from my sister. She let me know that the family was okay but somebody tried to break in the night before. I spoke with my dad about the situation, and this is what he said. Two men tried to break in last night, as they were trying to break the lock on the door. I heard them, and I rushed out with the machete. They saw me coming through the window and took off running down the street. I was a ways away from them, but I was walking after them. One of them yelled

out and said that they just wanted to talk because my employer sent them. I told them I didn't have an employer. Then they said, yes you do. The pastor, he paid for us to come here. My dad was furious and took off after them and tried to get more information, but he couldn't catch up with them. The police were called the next day and they tried to search around the house, but with their lack of resources they really couldn't find anything. A couple of months passed and then I got another call from my family saying that the same

thing was happening again. There was another break in attempt. This time the intruders tried to get in through a window. When the police were called again, they found tire tracks behind the house in a poisonous substance. A common murder tactic over there was filling houses with this poisonous gas. Through connections made in the town, my family and I came to find out that the pastor was essentially viewed as a godfather of sorts. He had eyes and ears all over town, and his people were always watching. After the second break in attempt, the pastor called the same day to ask my family how everything was going. My dad yelled at him and threatened him so severely that it made him cry. My dad let him know that he was still working on making sure that the kids at the boarding

school got food and clothes. My dad also said that if he ever saw the pastor around the boarding school, he'd kill him. I'm not sure if my dad would actually have done this, but what I know for sure was that my dad was at his breaking point. The pastor ended up being the one stealing the school's funds, and he was angry that he no longer had control over the funds with my family in charge. Strange instances continued to occur,

so eventually my family had to go into hiding. They moved into a different house in the middle of the night. They selected a house that was in a dangerous area because they felt that the pastor wouldn't have guessed they moved there. They were right about that because he didn't. For the remainder of their time in Uganda, the pastor kept trying to contact my family, but my dad blocked his number and cut off anyway of making contact with him. When my family managed to get their affairs in order so that they could leave, they fled to the airport in the middle of the night. Thankfully, I can say my entire family is safe and we now live right down the

street from each other. But since I left before them, I spent over a year not knowing whether or not I would wake up to a message from somebody telling me that my family was dead. We recently found out that the pastor and his wife had gotten a divorce and they've put out hits on each other over money. So although it seems likely that the pastor will end up six feet under soon, I hope we never meet again. Thanks everyone for listening. If you're a patron, your extended content will be available tomorrow afternoon. We ran into some technical difficulties and lost the whole thing, so I'm going to have to

redo that whole episode for you, but it will be available tomorrow as soon as I can get it out and make sure you look in your feed. However, if you are a patron, don't worry, this episode will be available tomorrow as soon as I can get it out and make sure you look in your feed. However, if you are a patron, don't worry, this episode will be ad-free. If you want 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 tons of bonus content and ad-free episodes. This week you have heard some are in paradise by John. I need to get some sugar by Nicole.

I shouldn't have come back by Wes's Grand Mom, the prowler by Roe. Fake Shuttle Driver by Anonymous. Car Wash Crisis by B. The man in the trench coat by Casey and finally the pastor by Andrew. 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 Holmer podcast, is not associated with Reddit or any of the message boards online. As always, if you have a story to share, make sure you send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com

and we'll take a look. I want to thank all of our guests for coming on the show this week. We had Soren Narnia of Knife Point Horror. Shelby Scott of Scare You to Sleep, Baron Moore of More to the Story, Christine and M from, and that's why we drink, and finally Amanda and Cassidy more of more to the story, Christine and M from and that's why we drink and finally Amanda and Cassidy from Drinking the Cool Aid. Make sure you check out all of their podcasts, the links will be in the show notes.

However you can find them anywhere you listen to podcasts. And don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, as well as Welcome to Paradise, It sucks and the old time radio cast over at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. We'll see you all next week and for the patrons make sure you stick around. I'll see you tomorrow for your bonus content. Everyone, stay safe. I'm sorry. you