Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 14x18: Fear Thy Neighbor

Episode Date: April 28, 2025

Stories in this episode: I'm Pretty Sure This is How "Fear Thy Neighbor" Starts | throwawayspamx (0:40) Why I Don't Walk My Dog at Night Anymore | Joyfeather (6:15) Creepy Woman I Encountered When I Worked at an International Airport | The Midas Touched (13:20) Grandma's Creepy Boyfriend | Affectionate-Hotel27 (24:32) Creepy Housemates | Cloud_Heaven02 (30:00) Video Guy | Ian (35:18) Extended Patreon Content: The Creep in the Red Chevy | Sarah Craigslist Horror Story | Sherita I Don't Need Friends | Clyde Beach Creep on Cherry Avenue | Sandy Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Join the Discord: https://discord.gg/84WXQud4gE Follow: - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@crypticcounty Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Cryptic Encounters, and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts!    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! This show is sponsored by BetterHelp. Visit BetterHelp.com/notmeet to get 10% off your first month 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].    

This podcast contains adult language and content. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. This happened when I moved back home just a few years ago. My mom lives in a trailer park, essentially in the middle of nowhere. I've never had any problems with the neighbors. I mind my business, they mind their own. My mom's fiance, on the other hand, being the social butterfly that she is, has to get

to know everyone coming and going around the block. Shortly after I moved back home, we started seeing this new guy next door, living with who we thought was just a single mom and her child. I wasn't sure, but I thought maybe it was a new boyfriend for her or something like that. Of course, my mom's fiancé immediately started getting to know the newbie of the neighborhood, and in the months that followed, things started to get weird. Whenever my sister went outside, she'd notice the new neighbor.

His name was Chris. He would fly out of the back door and do random, mundane things. She would notice him looking out the window quite often, too, but we didn't pay any mind to her because sometimes my sister can be a bit dramatic. My mom's fiancé used to let Chris use our water and water hose to water his garden. I never understood why, but when we got the water bill back it was over 200 bucks, so he told Chris that he couldn't keep using our water since things had gotten expensive.

Chris immediately grew aggressive and told my mom's fiance that we were the ones who were using too much water, not him. We had never had a water bill that high before though. Then I got this random friend request from the neighbor. I didn't think anything of it, as I approved the request. And that was when my mom's fiancé let me know that Chris had been talking about how pretty I was. He asked my mom's fiancé for my Facebook information, but my mom's fiancé acted like

he didn't know if I had a Facebook or not. This conversation happened after I had already approved his friend request. So this made me realize that he went through hundreds of my mom's friends and her fiance's friends on Facebook just to find me. We had already been talking over Facebook as well, but it had always been a friendly chat. I talked to Chris about what my mom's fiance told me, and he said that he wasn't going to sugarcoat anything, but

he told me that I was sexy as fuck, and those are his words. I let it be known that I had a boyfriend, so he apologized. But if you think that was the last time he made a comment or a pass at me, you're wrong. It was like he completely disregarded that I was with somebody. He asked me to go into the woods with him and meet him outside at night. It made me really uncomfortable. I was over talking to Chris, but one critical piece of information my mom's fiancé left

out was that he was just released from prison months prior, after being in there for some really bad stuff. Breaking and entering, arson, just to name a few, but the worst one was manslaughter for shanking a man while he was serving time. He claims that it was self-defense. Honestly, I have no idea how this guy was even walking freely, but I digress. Usually once a guy doesn't take the hint of, I have a boyfriend, I usually tell them to fuck off

and I block them and just be done with it. But in this situation, my mother didn't think that was the best course of action. I suggested that maybe I could ghost him, but she thought that he would just walk right over and confront me about leaving him on red. Chris had been caught walking through our yard trying to find me, so her theory wasn't too far-fetched. My family and my boyfriend were terrified for me, so my mom told me that I was no longer allowed to go outside by myself. As such, one night we were all outside hanging out and

just talking on the front porch. We then started to hear yelling from next door and then Chris sped off in a truck. He returned a few minutes later and we heard the woman next door screaming, keep your hands off of me. The police were called and more people showed up at the home. My mom, my boyfriend, and I then left to go to town. It was dark, but when we pulled up to the end of the street to get onto the main

road, our headlights illuminated a person on the side of the road. It was Chris, clutching his phone and looking up the road. Shortly after that, I found out that he lied about being single and was cheating on the mother of his children. This poor woman had done everything for him, only for him to cheat on her with several other women. His dirty ways caught up to him that night when she kicked him to the curb. So to the woman that Chris treated so poorly, I'm very sorry that you and your family had

to deal with him. You didn't deserve that at all. As for Chris, good riddance. And I hope you get what's coming to you. This happened to me a couple of years ago when my husband and I were living in a townhouse in a pretty decent area. My husband was working third shift as a correctional officer at our local corrections facility, and I was working as a waitress slash bartender.

It was an unusually warm night for mid-March, so I took advantage and decided to take our 80 pound Siberian Husky for a quick walk around the neighborhood close to our complex. We got to the end of the street that led into the complex, and I noticed a man at the gas station across the street, while our dog Luke stopped to relieve himself. The guy at the gas station was holding a case of beer.

I had my phone out and I was texting my friend. And when I looked back up, I saw that the guy was now near the stop sign, also relieving himself. I felt awkward and instantly put my phone away while leading Luke down the street to get onto our walking path. At this point, I think that the guy noticed us since he crossed the street to where Luke and I just were. I heard him walking a few feet behind me, but I just kept my head down,

staring at my phone with Luke glued to my hip. Seconds later, I heard this guy's footsteps getting closer. Luke realized that someone was behind us, so he stopped in his tracks. Mind you, he's a big dog compared to my 5'2 self, but I can handle him easily since he is very well trained by my husband. When I stopped, I noticed that his ears were perked up and his tail went straight up. I was glad Luke was aware of our surroundings, but I still wanted to keep moving and get

away from this guy since I was getting a weird feeling. The guy finally caught up to us, so I tightened my grip on Luke's leash, pulled him closer to me, and stepped onto the grass to get out of this guy's way and allow him to pass. But did this guy keep going and pass us up? No, he did not.

When I thought he was about to pass, I stuttered out a small apology since Luke was tugging on his leash, trying to investigate this guy. I was used to apologizing since most people get a little intimidated about his size, because he's massive. The guy stopped and just stared at me for a minute. As he was doing so, I could smell the scent of cigarettes and booze coming off of him.

He appeared to be in his mid to late 20s. He was scruffy looking and had dark hair. He smiled, and when he finally noticed that Luke was trying to get at him, he said, Cute dog, what's his name? I told him that his name was Luke, but then he proceeded to ask if he could pet my dog. Before I could even answer, he leaned down to start petting Luke's head, but Luke did not like that. Luke jumped at him as a warning, and the guy backed up.

But he was just chuckling. I apologized and mentioned that he was very protective and made up a lie that he had been trained since he was my dad's former K9 unit. In actuality, my dad is a software developer. This detail made the expression on the guy's face instantly change. I'm not sure what to call it, but he looked more than a little put off by that idea. He then asked me what my name was, so I gave him a fake name. Then he asked me if I lived around here, and I said I was just visiting a friend of mine

for the weekend. He then made a sudden step toward me, and I'm not lying when I say I have never heard my dog growl like that in the five years that I had known him. The sound that Luke was making sounded like something from a nightmare. His hair was spiking on his spine, and he was throwing himself upright on his hind legs, lashing out at this guy. He had put himself completely between us. This really scared the guy so

much that he stumbled backwards nearly dropping his case of beer. He quickly said, Well, have a nice night, cutie. He then stumbled back onto the road. When I say that my heart was pounding, just know that it was deafening. I then grabbed Luke's leash so hard and sprinted between the buildings before we got back to our townhouse. Once we were inside, I locked all of the doors and collapsed by the front door. Luke was in my face the whole time, kissing me and whining. He's the sweetest and most gentle creature I have ever met, so hearing him growl and seeing him react the way that he did made me realize that we needed to get out of that situation fast.

Luke has recently passed away, but I couldn't have thanked Luke enough for always being there for us and possibly saving my life that night. Thank you to everyone who's listened to mine and Luke's tale. His amazing badassery to keep his mama safe should be praised. Stay safe everyone and hold your pets close. This show is sponsored by BetterHelp.

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you've never tried therapy before, it's an amazing way to learn positive coping skills, set boundaries, and stay grounded through everything that life throws at you. Right now, my therapist and I are going over Taoist principles and how they can apply in today's fast-paced world even more than ever. I'm not only learning, but I'm broadening my views on life, and my relationship with my therapist has become truly invaluable. BetterHelp is the world's largest online therapy platform, with over 30,000 therapists and over 5 million people served globally.

It's super convenient. You can join a session with just a click and switch therapists at any time if you need to. Your well-being is worth it. Visit betterhelp.com slash not meet to get 10% off your first month. That's betterHELP.com slash not meet. I was talking to my girlfriend on the phone, and we happened to talk about random memories that we have, which caused me to have a very detailed flashback of this event.

I'm a male, and I was 22 years old when this happened at the beginning of 2023. I was working as a terminal attendant at one of the biggest airports in Europe. My job description was mostly to give directions to arriving and departing passengers at this airport. I had to help them solve their problems, which occasionally included resolving visa and passport related issues. I'm not comfortable with sharing exactly which airport I was working at, but as I share more details, I'm sure you'll probably guess.

The airport I worked at was huge and in a somewhat central location. It's one of the major layover points so many passengers are transferring as they're coming and going from Asia, Africa, Europe, and America. As such, a very common part of my job was to encounter very strange types of people and situations. I was working 12-hour shifts. Some days I would have a PM shift starting in the afternoon while my other shifts were during the day. The areas I would work in varied, as that was determined by the daily assignments.

This particular incident happened during a 12-hour shift when I was assigned to work on the transfer floor of the airport. This is the common point where international passengers wait for passport control before picking up their luggage. This is also the area where the passengers of every single incoming international flight are flowed into. When terminal attendants work in the area, we're supposed to station ourselves at a fixed point, preferably where passengers can't specifically call for us.

On this particular day, it was 3 a.m. and since flights and passenger traffic slowed down significantly at this time, I decided to patrol the area a bit. So I left my station and went to the gate of the only arrival flight that was set to de-board at that time of night. I decided to wait there in case passengers needed help right as the gate opened. After a while, the plane pulled up to the gate. When the gate opened, a lot of ordinary-looking people walked off the plane and into the transfer center.

Except for this one woman. There was this strange-looking woman who made me feel cursed by the cold January air. She was a brunette who appeared to be in her late twenties. She was covered in dirt, and she was wearing torn clothes. Her hair was missing in some places, and the remaining hair that she had was rather unkempt, and, as odd as this sounds, I think it was a bit burnt. When she saw me in uniform, she walked right up to me, looking scared and confused.

I remember focusing on her unusually large pupils as she said, "'Excuse me, do you work here? I need help.'" I wanted to take her armually large pupils as she said, excuse me, do you work here? I need help. I wanted to take her arm since she was having trouble walking, but the smell emanating from her wasn't normal sweat. It was intense. It made my nose sting.

I sat her down on a seat that was reserved for passengers. I stood opposite her and calmly asked how I could help her. I had a bad experience, she explained. That's why I'm running away. I haven't eaten for days and I think there was something in the water that I was given on the plane. Ever since I drank it I don't feel well. My mind is fuzzy.

I was listening intently but I wasn't fully convinced about what she was saying. I thought she had to have been having some kind of mental breakdown since her gestures and intonations were very strange as she spoke. I was also familiar with the aviation rules, and I knew that something like this should be reported to the police immediately. When I told her this, she didn't like that idea. She stood up, grabbed my shoulders, shook me and shouted, no police, never the police.

Then she started laughing. She looked up at the ceiling like there was something up there. She was making these strange gestures with her hands, but her cheerful demeanor was interrupted by sudden bursts of tears. No police, she cried. They won't like it. They? Who are you talking about? The police?

It's their job to help, I replied. Who said anything about cops? I'm talking about the people who did this to me, she said. As she said this, she lifted the burnt hair that had been covering her forehead, revealing one of the strangest things I had ever seen in my life. Look, I've seen a lot of strange tattoos due to the environment I studied and lived in. I was so used to seeing tattoos from encountering so

many travelers at work, but this was different. Right in the center of her forehead was a tattoo that looked like the barcodes that are on the products at grocery stores. There were these black lines with some numbers underneath. At first I thought maybe this woman had some strange fashion sense, but her odd behavior made me think that this was possibly an indication of some kind of trafficking ring. I'd seen some documentaries on the subject, and I couldn't help but think that this would be an easy way for captors to mark those being trafficked. This certainly would be an easy way to identify them and catch them if they escaped. Instead of involving the police, she wanted to use my phone,

but I told her that she wasn't allowed to use the phone due to the airport's security rules, so I let her know that she could use the payphone if she wanted. She said she didn't have any money with her, and of course, I was also not allowed to give her money due to the security rules. Since she showed aggressive behavior toward me every time I insisted on talking to the police, I finally decided to contact them discreetly, so I brought her some food and water before going to talk to the police. When I arrived at the on-site police station on the transfer floor, the policemen were

resting and taking advantage of this calm night. As I told them what was going on, I pointed out the woman. They glanced at her and told me that she was just one of the refugees coming into our country. Now, my country hosts so many illegal immigrants and refugees, so I wasn't surprised that that's what they were thinking. They said that she was probably acting strange and being adamant about not involving the police, since she could be trying to enter the country illegally. They didn't take my concerns very seriously and unfortunately, I left their station without a solution.

When I went back to the woman I realized that she had not touched the food or water that I had brought to her. She repeatedly refused to consume them with a fear in her eyes. While I wasn't sure of what to do next, I continued to have a conversation with her and maybe gain more insight into her situation. When I asked her for her name, she gave me a very strange answer that I had never heard before. It was like a name that seemed to be from some kind of ancient language. Even though it was very unique, I can't remember exactly what she said.

When I asked her where she came from and where she was going, she said that she didn't know. To get this information, I took her passport and boarding pass from her hand. I couldn't tell where she was coming from exactly, but I was able to determine that she was coming from an Asian country, but her next destination was not written on the boarding pass, so her ticket was only valid until this point. Our conversation wasn't very productive, so I decided to walk away from her and leave her alone to observe her from a distance. It was now time for me to head back to my station to complete some paperwork anyway, so I decided to take care of that in the meantime. About three hours after I initially saw her, at around 6 a.m., my other colleague was due

to arrive at the station for me to hand over the shift. I was going to exit through the door where they were going to enter the transfer center, but before I left I decided to stop by and check on that odd female traveler. As I was walking up to her, she was holding a book in her hand. It was a book with an old cover and yellowed paper, but I didn't understand the words that were written on it. I didn't understand anything about it. The entire book was written in an alphabet I didn't recognize, and it was in a language

I didn't know. When she realized I was approaching, she pointed at me and called me over. It was then that I got a closer look at this book, which appeared to contain the strange figures of people as well as other drawings. The woman pointed at one of the drawings and cryptically said, "'This is how they do this.'" "'This is how they do what?' I asked. I'm confused.

Can you be a bit more specific?" When I asked that, she shook her head from side to side and laughed. She had an expression as if I wouldn't understand even if she thoroughly explained it. I told her that a friend of mine would be arriving soon in my place and told her to contact them if she had any problems. Then I gave her directions to the restroom and pointed out the police station, the ticket office, and where she could get food. After a few seconds of looking me right in the face, she clasped my hand between both of hers,

looked me in the eyes, and thanked me for helping through tears. I had no idea exactly what happened to her, but at that moment my heart broke, and I put my other hand over hers and nodded. I knew that it was time for me to leave when my friend who was taking over came up behind me and put their hand on my shoulder. I had covertly informed my friend of the situation, so I proceeded with introducing them to the woman.

My friend told me that they were going to take special care of her and then said goodbye as I wrapped things up for the day. When I woke up the next day, I texted my friend and asked them how she was doing. They told me that after I introduced them to her, they left to take care of another passenger and they didn't see her for the rest of the day. They said that when they asked the passport police and ticket offices, they only told them that they were busy enough as it was, and they hadn't been paying that much attention to people. So my friend just kind of brushed it off.

During my next shift, I was keeping an eye out for the woman, but I never saw her and I never heard from her again. This encounter still gives me goosebumps whenever I think about it. When I was a kid, my two younger siblings and I stayed the weekend at our grandmother's house while our parents were out of town. My grandma's long-term boyfriend, who we'll call Banks, had moved in with her, and would be staying the weekend with us as well.

The moment I met him, he immediately gave me the creeps. I don't remember much from our first night there, so I assume nothing out of the ordinary happened, but that quickly changed the following morning. My grandma announced that she'd be leaving us at home with Banks just for a bit so that she could go pick up some groceries. As grandma left, my brother, sister, and I sat on the living room couch to watch TV. Shortly thereafter, I heard Banks emerge from his room down the hall. I listened closely to Banks' footsteps as he approached, and noticed that he was slowly creeping down the hallway, as opposed to walking at a normal pace. I fixated on the doorway where he would inevitably appear, and when he did, he was crouched down

with his eyes wide. He was grinning with his hands positioned as if he were about to pounce towards us. He began running towards us on the couch, yelling, I'm the tickle monster. Then he pounced on top of my younger sister and aggressively tickled her while kneeling over her. Banks was six feet tall with a muscular build while my sister was below the age of ten. My sister repeatedly asked Banks to stop.

She exclaimed, I don't like it. Stop that. When that wasn't enough, she let out this high-pitched scream and began crying hysterically. At this point, it sounded like Banks was hurting her, so I had to intervene. I didn't like that he was continuing to tickle her while she screamed and cried. I tried to physically insert myself between my sister and Banks as I told him to stop, but he wouldn't remove his hands from my sister, so I began to slap his arms, saying, let go of her.

Once he finally let go of her, I told both my brother and sister that we were going to make a run for it. The only thing I remember feeling and thinking during this moment was, get the fuck away from this man right now. I ran out of the living room, down the hallway, and into the first bedroom. My sister followed behind me as my brother trailed behind us. Just as I was closing the bedroom door, Banks caught up to us and shoved himself against the door in an attempt to prevent me from locking it.

Miraculously, I was able to lock it right before he had the chance to overpower me. Once my siblings and I were locked in the bedroom, Banks began to bang on the door while he repeatedly yelled, I'm the tickle monster, let me in. I'm the tickle monster and I'm coming to get you. Both of my siblings were crying hysterically while I was overcome with fear of what Banks might do

if he managed to gain access to the bedroom. Although I didn't have a phone, I yelled back at him, if you don't stop, I'm going to call the police. Banks backed off after that, and I heard him retreat into his bedroom down the hall and close the door. My siblings and I stayed in the bedroom with the door locked until my grandma returned, and Banks remained in his bedroom for the rest of the night.

The following morning, Banks left the house and my grandma said that he was working and he'd be gone for the day. When my grandma fell asleep on the living room couch that afternoon, for whatever reason, I decided to go into their bedroom and snoop around. I went into Banks' nightstand, and I found his personal journal. For the most part, it was filled with nonsense, but there were also very detailed, hand-drawn depictions of sex acts. Some of the drawings had a bit of satanic undertone, but I was too young to understand

what I was looking at. I continued flipping through it, and I landed on a page with big, bold, black, and red letters. In all caps it read, If you die a virgin, do you go to hell? Below it was a drawing of a nude girl. There were two versions of the girl standing side by side, and one she appeared happy, and her face was more distorted and confused looking on the other.

As I'm writing this out, I can't help but re-envision it, and it makes me feel disgusted. I don't know how to fully emphasize how disturbing it was. I instantly went numb, dropped the journal, ran to the living room and demanded that my grandma call my parents so that my siblings and I could go home immediately. Unfortunately, my sister was sent home covered in bruises from Banks' tickling her. He was a strange and creepy man. This happened in 2019. My sister and I were international students living and studying abroad in Sydney, Australia.

We were on a tight budget, so we rented a room to share for about four months. The house we were in had three bedrooms, none of which had a lock. Inside the house, there was also a shared bathroom. The first bedroom was occupied by the brother of the owner of the house. We'll call him Dean. Dean was in his early 40s and about 5'11", with an average body type. The second bedroom was occupied by Dean's friend,

who we'll call Freddie. Freddie was in his early 60s, and he was around 6'1", with an average build as well. Then lastly, there was the third room, which my sister and I were in. This wasn't a big deal for us since we're very close, and the accommodation aligned just fine with our tight budget. We knew Dean as he was a friend of a friend of my aunt. Now this happened one evening when I arrived home from work. I rested a bit before using the shower.

It was probably around 7 p.m. and since it was winter, it was pitch black outside. When you enter the room with the shower, on the right side, there's a big sliding glass window painted white so that nobody can see inside, unless you slide the glass open. Beyond that window was our backyard, which had a table and chairs. When I stepped into the room, I noticed that the window was cracked open slightly. Honestly, this window was always cracked open, so I really didn't pay much attention to this.

Plus, I thought that I couldn't be seen from outside, as it was only a very small opening. So I took a shower, and then I went into the kitchen to get some food. That was when Dean came inside from the backyard with his dog. Nothing seemed off, so I politely said hi, and carried on with what I was doing.

Months passed, and since my sister and I were mostly just studying and working, we weren't home much during the day. We were essentially just using our room at night to sleep. One day, my sister had a late afternoon shift, which wasn't typical, as she was always working the early morning shift. When I left for work, my sister was still sleeping, completely covered with the blanket

pulled up over her body since it was winter. However, since we're both only five foot and petite, it's hard to tell if there's someone under the covers or if it's just pillows. My sister was then suddenly awoken as she heard a strange noise happening in the room. She opened her eyes, peeked out from under the covers, and saw that some of our underwear was scattered around on the floor. She assumed it was me running late for work and just throwing everything on the floor. But then she caught a glimpse of our housemate Freddy searching through our laundry basket. He began to sniff our laundry.

My sister was horrified and she pretended that she didn't see anything. She asked Freddy if he was looking for a phone charger or something. He was so shocked to see her there that he only managed to say yes, that he was looking for a charger. Freddy then left our room but returned a few minutes later and asked my sister not to tell anyone about what happened. My sister agreed as she was afraid that Freddy might do something bad to her.

When she went to work, she texted me about what happened. I was very shocked and afraid to go home because I was usually the one who got home first. My sister then told Dean what happened. I didn't want to go inside the house without Dean being there, so I just waited outside until he got there. We went inside and without saying a word, he installed a lock on our door right there. It was nice having a lock finally, but my sister and

I moved a week after this happened. However, before we moved out, I had one last revelation. I was folding some clothes that were hanging on the clothesline outside. It was pitch black. But when my eyes adjusted to the dark, I looked around the backyard. My eyes shifted over the window of the shower room, and I looked into the very small opening that was there. To my shock, I realized that from outside, even though that opening in the window was

so small, it was possible to see everything that was happening inside the shower. was so small. It was possible to see everything that was happening inside the shower. I realized that that was why Dean was usually outside in the dark. He was able to see everything perfectly without being noticed since it was so dark outside. It was disappointing to find out that both housemates were colossal creeps. May we never meet again. I've tried to make this story as short as possible, but it does take place over the better part of 20 years. As the story will reveal, I eventually learned the antagonist's name, but I'll simply refer

to him as the Video Guy. In the spring of 1994, I lived in a small market town in the Midlands of England. I was in my final year of secondary school and studying for my final exams in hopes of getting to university in the autumn of that year. I had a job on the weekends. I worked in the entertainment section of a small department store selling CDs and VHS movies. It was a job that I liked.

My colleagues were fun, and I got to choose which CD played on the store stereo. The store closed at 5.30 p.m., and week after week, I realized I had the exact same man lingering around as my final customer of the day. He would always buy this Jane Fonda-style fitness film on VHS, and he always tried to engage me in conversation about the contents of the video. I would answer his questions politely, but curtly since I, just like every retail worker at closing time ever, wanted to serve him quickly and get him out so that we could lock up the shop and go home. This guy appeared to be in his mid-40s, and he was the type of person who was impossible

to imagine ever being a younger man, if that makes sense. He was always immaculately presented with a freshly pressed suit, shirt, tie, and polished shoes. His heavy overcoat was always much too warm for the season, even in England. He began to come into the store earlier and earlier, but despite this, he was still the last customer to leave. He was always asking about the fitness VHSs. He asked if I enjoyed them as much as he did.

I would always politely answer that I hadn't watched any of them, while remarking that we sold quite a lot. One day, I finally realized that he wasn't watching the videos as a home fitness workout. He just wanted to watch women in leotards and stretchy pants. I was kind of in disbelief because not only was porn a thing, but there was a licensed sex shop in our town. Also, the store I worked in sold mainstream titles that had sex scenes and nudity in them. This weekly customer interaction was one that I had already found tiresome and weird.

At around the same time, a series of quote unquote lovers guides videos were released aimed at couples wishing to improve their intimacy. They were largely bought by middle-aged women, but were heavily advertised in the mainstream press. After these were released, video guys started buying one per week. Every time he bought a new video, he would tell me what he liked about the last one. I was only 17 and fairly naive, but I had been trained to believe that the customer

was always right, so I didn't realize that this wasn't okay. I started to dread going into work even more, and especially feared the final hour before closing. I was getting close to the point of quitting because of this scumbag when my boss, a woman in her 40s, whom I hadn't really liked much up until this point, heard him talking to me. She banned the man from the shop on the spot. Once she realized what had been going on, she made sure that she was on the shop floor every week to stop him from entering the premises.

He attempted to revisit on two occasions, to my knowledge, but other than that, he was never seen in the shop again. That should have been that. Only it wasn't. A month later, on a Friday afternoon, I was walking home from school, just outside the school gates. I heard someone calling out to me. I turned around and realized it was the video guy.

He was carrying a large plastic bag from which he produced softcore porn VHS films and began to excitedly tell me about them. Evidently, he found the licensed sex shop that I mentioned before and brought half of its stock to the school gates to discuss it with me. I froze. I had a chill running down my spine and I couldn't seem to say or do anything while he continued to show me this rubbish. He then said, Hey, now that I've found you outside of work, no one can stop us from sharing like this. He said this like we were somehow star-crossed partners in porn, kept apart despite our wishes. I just remained calm, but inside I was panicking. My friends were all standing around open-mouthed

as I scrambled to make up some excuse about not wanting to miss my bus and ran away. The following day, I was working in the store when my boss asked me if I had seen the video guy in the store. my boss asked me if I had seen the video guy in the store. I remember her saying, You have that look on your face, the one that you usually have when he's around. I ended up telling her about the day before.

She was furious and sent me to work in the stockroom so that I wouldn't have to worry about seeing him. The following Monday, upon my arrival at school, I was immediately sent to the head office, where I saw my boss from work sitting with my form tutor and year head. My boss told them everything and demanded to know how they were going to protect me. It was agreed that there would be a staff member posted at the school gates every afternoon. I was told, should I see the video guy, that I was to inform them at once, return to the school building, and wait while the police were called.

Three days later, this is exactly what happened. Video guy was arrested, so I had to give witness statements and the like, but, to the best of my knowledge, no prosecution was ever made, largely because the police were never sure of what crime had been committed. In the autumn of that year, I was 18 years old and preparing to move to a university in northern England. I officially resigned from my workplace, which threw me a going-away party, during which my boss, this badass woman

I had grown to admire for protecting me from video guy, made several passes at me. She asked if I wanted to go to a hotel with her, which completely blindsided me. I declined, despite her insistence. I had a girlfriend, but even if I hadn't, she was the same age as my mother. Plus, she was married. I felt violated. It was like all that trust that was built up had been broken. I felt the same as when Video Guy was talking to me.

After that, I honestly couldn't wait to get to university and leave all this nonsense behind. I was able to do exactly that for a number of years, but it turned out Video Guy wasn't finished yet. By the autumn of 1998, I had graduated from university and moved to Manchester, two hours away from my hometown. I had started my first professional job with a large firm and an office located in the city center. My immediate colleagues were in their 20s and would regularly go out for a couple of pints at the pub across the street after work. On one such occasion, we grabbed a table near the window and,

as I happened to glance out, there he was. Video guy was walking past the main entrance to my office. He was still immaculately dressed in a pressed shirt with tie. He blended in well during the evening rush hour with all of the other office workers making their way home. He was carrying a large carrier bag with him and I immediately felt that same icy panicked chill that I had experienced at the school gates years ago.

I watched him walk down the street and head towards the main train station, and despite being on edge, dismissed it as a weird coincidence. A week later, I was at my desk when I got a call from reception to advise that my client had arrived for our meeting. I was not in a customer-facing role and never had client meetings, so I asked for the name

of this visitor. The last name of the person the receptionist gave me was one that was vaguely familiar to me. I asked reception to describe him, and their description matched Video Guy perfectly. They also confirmed the presence of a large plastic carrier bag. I advised reception to ask him to leave, inform him that he was not welcome in the building, and involve security if necessary. The following day I met with HR and explained the embarrassing situation. They immediately notified all front desk staff and said that they were to call security should he reappear.

I reported him to the same police station that had dealt with him years prior, but I never heard anything further from them. I was on edge for weeks, if not months, afterwards, waiting for him to reappear. But he didn't. Well, not in Manchester, anyway. Now let's fast forward all the way to 2006. I had been living in London for a few years and was walking through Soho on my way to meet some friends when suddenly

video guy was right in front of me. He was beside one of the adult bookshops and had a huge carrier bag in each hand. From the look of surprise on his face, I think the instance of running into him was a genuine coincidence. He cried out, Oh, you've found this place too, that's brilliant. I just stared at him. But I didn't freeze. There was no icy chill. Just pure rage. I launched myself at him, sending us both tumbling onto the wet pavement.

The carrier bags spilt, scattering what seemed like hundreds of porno DVDs all around us. I just pounded his face over and over while the array of big-breasted porn stars looked up at me from the gaudy covers of the DVDs. I have no real idea how long this lasted for, as the next thing I was aware of was being in handcuffs and getting arrested while a throng of evening shoppers and tourists watched on. I gave my version of the events but spent six hours in the cells before being released without charge. The custody sergeant explained that aside from a few

cuts and bruises, Video Guy wasn't seriously injured. I was never much of a fighter. After that evening, I lost any lingering fear that I might have had about the Video Guy. I barely gave him a second thought until one day in 2012, when ten very large boxes were delivered to my home address in London. They were full of porn DVDs and VHS tapes. And one box even contained the fitness VHS tapes that I had sold that guy back in 1994. There was a simple handwritten note in one of the boxes that read, I'm sorry we didn't end as friends. I thought you might accept these as a way of apology.

I can find what I need on the internet now anyways. Best wishes. And then he signed it with his name. I was enraged. How the hell was I going to dispose of ten large crates of filth? And how did this guy find my home address? The answer turned out to be in the note. It was the internet.

I didn't realize I was listed in a public online directory, but so was he. So I got a friend to help me take the boxes back to the post office to return to sender. But not before I slipped a note in the first box. My rebuttal was, Dear Video Guy, fuck off you absolute cockwomble. This exchange inspired me to Google him.

A move that suddenly seemed so obvious but hadn't occurred to me before. That unusual, yet strangely familiar name that he had, meant he was easy to find. And it turned out, he had no privacy settings on his Facebook. By all appearances, he was a successful businessman and happily married as well. The familiarity of the last name suddenly became obvious. I recognized his wife straight away. She was my protector turned predator from 1994. It was my old boss. The whole time that she was protecting me,

she never specified that he was her husband. I haven't heard from either of them since. A situation that suits me just fine, but yes, to Mr. and Mrs. Video Guy. Let's not meet. Thanks for listening, and stick around after the music for your extended version of this week's episode. If you'd like to get access, go to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today. You'll get access to ad free versions of all of our episodes plus bonus content with stories you won't hear anywhere else every single

week. Again, that's patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. And be sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like odd trails, the old time radio cast and cryptic encounters at cryptic county podcasts.com. Also be sure to follow me on Twitch at twitch.tv slash Cryptic County for my livestreams. This week you have heard I'm Pretty Sure This Is How Fear Thy Neighbor Starts by ThrowAwaySpamX. Why I Don't Walk My Dog At Night Anymore by Joy Feather. Creepy Woman I Encountered When I Worked At An International Airport by TheMidasTouched.

Grandma's Creepy Boyfriend by AffectionateHotel27, Creepy Housemates by CloudHeaven02, and finally, Video Guy by Ian. 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 of the message boards online. As always, send your stories to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com to hear them on the show. I'll see you next week for a brand new episode.

Everybody, stay safe. I feel that sharing this may be a good way for me to get things off my chest.