Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 17x02: Why I Hate Baseball

Episode Date: July 13, 2026

Story Submissions: [e-mail]  Stories in this episode:He Lived in the Barn | quickunderthebed (0:43)My Roommate's Dog Save Our Lives | _queer_fox (12:59) The Man on the Trail | LRae (16:27) Dark and Desolate I15 | Nobadfolks (25:16) The Time I Chased Off a Kidnapper | ttho95 (31:48) A Creepy Encounter Saved my Life | Tiny (38:27) I’ll Take Two 12-inch Subs and a SWAT Team | Psycho Mouse (42:17.) Why I Hate Baseball | ryanpuckett0 (47:42) Extended Patreon Content: He Looked Like a Backstreet Boy | Anonymous  Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Want Bonus Weekly Stories? Hate Ads? Join our Patreon for only $5 a month for over 100 hours of bonus content, and it's all ad-free! Follow LNM:- Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty- Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/- Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast- Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ 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. The stories shared on this podcast are told from the perspective of the authors. Their accounts and opinions are personal and do not reflect the stance of the production team. Right now, Larineco is offering our listeners up to 50% off at BuyLarine.com/meet. For a limited time, get 60% off your first order, plus free shipping AND free treats for life, when you head to Smalls.com/MEET Head to mood.com, find the functional gummy that matches exactly what you're looking for, and use promo code MEET at checkout to save 20% on your first order. For a limited time, Nutrafol is offering our listeners $10 off your first month's subscription and free shipping when you visit Nutrafol.com and enter promo code MEET. 

This podcast contains adult language and content. The stories shared in this podcast are told from the perspective of the authors. Their accounts and opinions are personal and do not reflect the stance of the production team. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. Growing up, I lived in a small farmhouse set on two acres. Although it wasn't a working farm, we did have an assortment of animals over the years. My mother was a vet and also spent a lot of stuff.

spare time rehoming and caring for sick, abused, and neglected animals. It was a peaceful place, with the happy hum of birdsong and wildlife reminding you that you weren't in a city. There was a walking trail through the wooded area behind our property. During the warmer months, tourists, hikers and campers would frequently use it. I was a bookworm, and I used to spend a lot of time in our barn. It was set toward the back of the property along the fence line. It was quiet. Tending to the animals and reading all my books in there took up a lot of my time. So I would often hear people talking and laughing as they traversed along this trail. When I was 10 years old, I would usually return home from school about an hour before my mother finished work. I was a mature

a kid, and she knew that she could trust me to catch the bus home and start my chores. On this day, I hopped off of the school bus, let myself in the front gate, and trudged up the dirt driveway to the house. Once inside, I fixed myself an after-school snack, a good old-fashioned PBNJ with a glass of milk. Then I took my snack out the back door and made my way toward the barn. I knew my afternoon routine like the back of my own hand. Right at that very second, our dogs should have been running up to greet me as they usually did. They were usually barking and circling around my legs with their butts wiggling happily, but on this day I couldn't see them anywhere. I called for them, but they didn't come. I did hear muffled barking

up from the barn. That was really weird, because we never locked them in the barn. During the day, they were outside, and at night they slept inside with us. I put my snack down on top of an old tree stump nearby, and went to open the barn to check on the dogs. The three of them rushed out and greeted me happily.

They were fine. From the door, I quickly glanced around the interior of the barn. There was no one there. It was quiet as usual. I figured maybe my mother had locked them in there that morning for some reason, or maybe the wind had blown the barn door shut when the dogs happened to be inside. Either way, I wasn't too concerned. I simply retrieved my snack and settled on a hay bale inside.

The dogs sat at my feet as I shared little bits of my sandwich with them. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall, skinny guy with long, messy gray hair, walked straight by the entrance to the barn. I could hear him making strange babbling sounds. It sounded like he was speaking in tongues, the way that people do when they're going to church. Oddly enough, my dogs barely reacted. They looked back at the door, wagged their tails a couple of times,

and focused their attention back on my sandwich. This wasn't normal. My dogs would usually react to a strange, on the property. A tiny bit of fear settled into my stomach. Not too much because I was a kid and my dog seemed happy enough. I then tiptoed to the doorway to peek around it. I wanted to get a better look at him.

He was really tall and so skinny that his ribs and spine were visibly jutting out. His hair was disheveled and so was his beard. He was bent over our chicken coop, searching eggs, I assumed. He pulled an egg out and ceased babbling as he studied it for the longest time. He said something to the egg that I couldn't hear, then put the whole thing in his mouth and chomped down on it. The yellow yulke ran down his chin and neck. I could see him grinding his jaw to crunch down on the shell.

I wanted to vomit or scream, but I was frozen watching as he devoured a raw egg, shell and all. When I finally snapped out of it, I screamed so loud that the man turned his head to look at me. But he didn't react. He just kept eating,

teeth grinding, yoke flowing. He was staring at me intensely. I then bolted from the barn, across the soggy green lawn, up the back wooden steps and into the house. I slammed the door shut and locked it. I remember feeling my heart beating wildly against my ribcage.

I was terrified for my dogs feeling guilty for leaving them out there with this guy. I pulled the corner of this little white curtain back from the window on the door and I peeked out to see if my dogs were okay. The weird man was just standing there in the middle of the yard staring intensely at the back door. My dogs licked bits of raw egg from his fingertips. I started shaking badly at this point. He was friendly with my dogs.

They didn't see him as a threat. But I didn't feel safe. I needed to call for help. As I went for the phone, I could hear him begin to babble loudly again. With shaky fingers, I dialed my mother's work number. As his babbling was getting closer and louder, I trembled harder and harder. I could barely speak when my mother's work number. mother answered, but I managed to choke out that I needed help and there was a man on the

property. She told me to go upstairs, lock myself in my bedroom, and hide under my bed until either she or the police get there. She then promptly hung up on me and called the police. The man was stomping up the back steps by now, babbling non-stop. He began to bash on the door. I bolted upstairs to my bedroom, locked the door, and got under my bed. I made sure not even a toe was poking out as I lay there, hoping that I wouldn't die. It would be school holidays in a few weeks, and I didn't want to be dead for that. This weird man made his way around the outside of the house. I could hear him bashing on windows, babbling through noises of frustration, and screaming

unintelligible phrases, they felt directed at me. This guy wanted in, and I was just waiting for the sound of shattering glass or the kicking in at the back door. Fear does strange things to your memory. I don't even know how long I was hiding there, listening for him. It didn't feel like too long, though, because the next thing I remember is the police arriving. I could hear them talking to the guy and asking him questions. He didn't respond to their questions, but the babbling says,

seemed to become panicked or louder. I decided to creep downstairs and look through the window since I felt safer with the police there. I could see my mother running down our dirt driveway. She looked panicked as she burst into the house to get me. She wouldn't stop hugging and kissing me as the police questioned me. It was embarrassing. The backup they called for arrived and the police took the guy with them to the station.

before they left, they assured my mother that they would be in touch with her to let her know what happened from there. She seemed pretty intent on pressing charges, though. A week later, the same two police officers came back to our house. They explained that the guy on our property had been secretly living in our barn at night

and hiding in the woods during the day for a couple of months. Many people had seen him on the trail during the summer as they walked it. He was usually harmless, and they explained why the dogs weren't worried about him being on the property. It's because he had befriended them. He had a history of being in and out of hospitals.

He had gone off his medication while hiding on our property. They explained that the guy had started to hide in our barn only when the weather had started getting colder. He had nowhere else to go. His elderly mother had passed away a few years earlier. He had no caretaker to look out for him. him. He was just trying to survive. This story ends 27 years later at his funeral. The man, whom we'll call Jim, got the help that he needed with the support of my mother. He went back on his

medication and disability pension. My mother helped to find him a small place in town and made the security deposit on it so that he could rent it. Jim became a volunteer on our property, helping my mother and me tend to the animals, and eventually he got paid a few of the hours a week at the vet clinic, helping to clean and maintain the site. It wasn't always smooth sailing. Jim had challenges, and sometimes he would have episodes, but for the most part, the last half of his life turned out to be pretty good. He gained friends in town, support from his community, a job, a home, and there were people around to look out for him. We buried him recently. for someone who started out

scaring the shit out of us and who had nothing and no one in his life he made a lasting impact on all of us especially the animals that he loved so much sometimes you think

you'd never want to encounter a creepy person again and most of the time you're probably right and feeling that way but Jim deserved a second chance he wasn't a malicious person he just needed a helping hand

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He's a bit skittish due to having an abusive background, but overall, he's a good dog. have a super comfy couch that I often choose to sleep on instead of my own bed. My roommate's dog, who will call Rover, barks any time he hears someone near the door, or if anyone knocks. It can be annoying, but it's helpful, because often I don't hear it. On this particular night, Rover stayed downstairs with me because I was anxious, but too lazy to go upstairs to my room. We have a deadbolt that has a keypad and auto locks after 30 seconds. It was around 2 a.m. when I woke up to him growling. Now, I had heard him growl before when delivery people came by and whatnot,

but this was almost primal. I opened my eyes and rolled over to see Rover, standing between the end of the couch and our front door. His hair was standing on end, and he was hunched over like a wolf about to tear down a deer, and that was when I heard it. someone was banging on the apartment door about three units down. I was frozen.

I felt the blood leave my face, and my instincts were screaming at me to run. This wasn't a let me in, I forgot my keys kind of banging. It was more frantic. I had the window open about two inches, but I used the lock on the bottom to keep it from opening more. I could hear this person mumbling to themselves and shuffling their feet around,

Then I heard the chirping of my keypad being used. It was rhythmic, so they were definitely trying actual codes and not just randomly punching buttons. At this point, Rover had backed up and placed himself directly in front of me, still facing the door. Then the doorknob started to move. Thankfully, they never entered the correct code, so it was still locked. But with this person actively trying to open the door, Rover went and into a full frenzy. He rushed to the door, body slamming it while barking and growling. I've never heard a dog make such a noise. I heard the person stumble back, then giggle.

That was what scared me the most. It felt like I had been submerged in ice water. I had goosebumps and I felt sick. By then, the commotion had woken up my roommate, who rushed down the stairs. She saw me frozen on the couch and rover trying to bust down our metal door, to get to whoever was trying to get in. My roommate broke the silence and screamed. My husband is a cop. We're armed and we will shoot. Obviously this was a lie,

but it seemed to work because we heard footsteps running away and Rover clicked back to his normal doofous self. I never sleep with the window open downstairs and have yet to sleep on the couch since. It was the winter of 2015 and I was working at a doctor's office in Brantz's. in Missouri. I had just gotten a new iPhone, and I was excited to try out the time-lapse mode for its camera. On my drive home from work, one early evening, I decided to stop and capture the sunset over

Table Rock Lake. It was a gorgeous evening, and the winter sun would be setting soon. I parked my SUV at a state park entry point parking lot. My car was the only car in sight, but that didn't alarm me. When I hopped out, I realized how incredibly chilly it was. It was sunny, but blisteringly cold. I opened the back of my vehicle and put on some gloves and a better pair of shoes, then took off down the trail that led to the edge of the lake. I had noticed the Branson Bell showboat, slowly making its way across the lake for its sunset voyage, and I thought it would be nice to capture it in time-lapse. The path down to the water was marked with large rocks on each side. I was in a hurry to get down to the shore and get into recording position.

I lost my footing and fell pretty hard. My head rested on a pointy-shaped big rock that I think would have knocked me out had I not managed to literally stop the impact at the moment we collided. My knee in one of my hands stung badly. It suddenly hit me how naive this side. idea was because no one knew where I was, and I nearly incapacitated myself on a vacant trail in freezing temperatures, with it being minutes from dark nonetheless. As I sat there recovering from my fall, I decided I was close enough to the shore, and that I would just film right there where I fell. I was about to find out that falling was the least of my worries. I heard a voice, someone unexpectedly

asked, can I borrow a light? I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned around, and there he was. He stood about 20 feet behind me. I replied to him and said that I was sorry, but I didn't have a lighter. I didn't smoke. I saw you getting out of the car up there.

You have a really nice body, he continued. Where had he been? There seriously wasn't a soul in sight when I parked, and headed down the trail. You might find this next part, hard to believe, because I myself still cannot grasp that there are people like this out there.

But the next thing he said to me, within less than a minute of appearing, was very surprising. Do you want to hook up? He asked. I knew I was in trouble. No one would hear me if I screamed. Sure, the Branson bell was out on the water,

but it was hundreds of feet away. And I was sure that I was was invisible to them. They wouldn't hear me over the sounds of the massive ship anyhow. Without missing a beat, I told him that it was too cold to do anything outside and suggested that we should go to my car. I pretended to be interested. In my mind, I just knew I needed to get off the trail before the sun went down. And obviously, I abandoned my plan of capturing the sunset. I don't recall all of the things that he said during our walk up to the parking lot, but when he asked if he could touch my body during the walk,

I quote-unquote happily agreed. I knew it was a test. I still wasn't 100% sure he was going to let me make it off the trail, and I knew anything that I could do or say to please him on that walk was my ticket out. I remember thinking, how did I get myself into this situation? I felt naive, and I promised myself that if I made it out of this, I would be smarter about watching my surroundings. We made it to the parking lot,

but much to my disappointment, my car was still the only one there, other than a vehicle that wasn't parked in a real spot and hadn't been there earlier. I knew it was his car. He had been hiding and watching me, and then he had pulled up to the trail entrance and left his car there before he began following me. You may ask why I didn't call 911 on the trail.

I felt that I couldn't since he was watching my every move, and I wanted to make it off the trail unharmed and alive. I figured it being below freezing was a good excuse to refuse to do what he wanted to do out there on the trail, but figured I could please him by offering to do what he wanted to do somewhere warm. My next mission was to make it to my own vehicle and escape. We were standing by his car, and he continued saying things that he was going to do to me. I was still playing along.

I tried to get his name and number, but he refused to tell me either. He then unzipped his pants and tried to get me to do things with him, but I insisted we walked to my SUV. He agreed, but grabbed something out of his car first. I never got a good look at it. I'm pretty sure it was a gun. We then walked across the parking lot towards my car. I pushed the unlock button, knowing that pushing it once would only unlock the driver's side.

I had my keys in the ready position. I jumped in, and as he was attempting to open the passenger side door, I turned it on and threw it into reverse, then backed up as the tires spun on loose gravel. Then I put it into drive and floored it. As I pulled away, I was too afraid to look in the rearview mirror. I called 911, told them what happened, and gave them a description. He was a handsome guy about six feet tall with blonde hair, brown eyes, and fair skin.

He had a slightly muscular build and nice features. He was probably 25 to 30. You wouldn't look at him and think anything remarkable or otherwise. I wasn't ever in a position to see his license plate, but I told the police about his car. He drove an older, probably early 90s, pale blue car. It reminded me of my great-grandmother's Oldsmobile. I didn't even have a first name to give to them. After they took down my information,

I never heard from anyone regarding my report again. I may never know what he has done exactly, but I do know that I sensed the presence of absolute evil that night. Our next sponsor is Smalls, and before I tell you about them, I want to play a quick game. False or fact, some cat food brands use the same meat grade that you'd find in a hot dog from dead, dying, diseased, or disabled animals. That's a fact.

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One is no safer than the other. Remember that. To start with a bit of backstory from 94 to 99, I made trips almost weekly from my home in Vegas to Orange County. This was an arrangement made to facilitate visitations between my daughter and her father, with whom I have a violent past as a domestic violence victim.

I did the drive to avoid having him in my space because he had stalked me before. In October of 96, I was making the trek on a Friday night because I had to work until 6 Monday through Friday, so I usually didn't get on the road until 8 or 9. I used to love the dark, that mysterious vibe of the 15 South at that time of night, and traffic was usually a non-existent. As I was approaching Baker, California, I exited the freeway to stop at our favorite gas station. This night was foggy and very dark,

but the gas station was well lit. It also had a great food court with really clean bathrooms, you know, the things you learn after making a certain drive dozens of times. After using the bathroom and getting snacks, I decided to top off the gas. So I pulled up to a pump close to the door of the store. That night, we were the only customers inside the food court and gas station. but once we got outside

there was another car pumping gas at the pump furthest from mine. I was busy putting my baby into her car seat and getting a blankie and snack just before the next three hours of the trip. My head was down, so the man at the other pump was not in my field of vision, but I could literally feel his eyes burning into my back.

Never before or since has a chill run through me quite like that moment. When the hair on my arms and neck stood on end, and my pulse began racing for no obvious reason. As dread radiated, my ears were even buzzing an alarm. My head then snapped up, and I involuntarily spun around in an inexplicable assessment of threat. That was when I saw the face of a creepy man

and an expression of pure hatred towards me. Now, this was a total stranger. His brows were knitted and his eyes, were squinting and scarily staring at me. It was a look that felt violating. I lost my breath. I finished pumping quickly, jumped in the car, and urgently locked all four doors. I got the fuck out of there, probably looking like I was on fire. It took me a few minutes to calm myself down and stopped shaking. After a while, I put it behind me, telling myself he just thought I was somebody else. But that proved to be incorrect.

30 miles down the 15, a weird light started shining into my car from the car in the lane to the right of me. The light was so bright I couldn't see anything. I couldn't see who was driving what. I ignored it and sped up to lose this asshole. Then it was gone. I assumed they had exited the freeway back there and hadn't noticed me.

I remember thinking, good riddance. But then a car pulled up behind me and a red light flashed along with a weird-sounding horn honk. I assumed I was being pulled over for speeding, so I pulled onto the shoulder, stopped, and waited for the officer to approach my window. I know not to stare at cops, so my eyes were straightforward.

My daughter was sleeping, my windows were still up. I figured I'd roll it down when he walked up to my car. So I was waiting, and waiting. Mind you, this is a little. was before everyone had cell phones, so travelers relied on call boxes, which were on the side of the road about every half mile for emergencies. I then looked over to my side mirror, and it was dark. All I saw was a guy standing there. His head was anxiously swiveling, like he didn't want any cars to pass by and see him. Then I noticed he was wearing a badge, but it wasn't on his chest.

It was on his pants, which were jeans as far as I could see. It was clipped onto the waistband, and then I noticed his stare. My baby woke up and I saw her face in my rear-view mirror, and this creepy guy in the side mirror. My survival instincts then roared into action. Details about this encounter were alarming me, and I was again choked up and shaking like crazy. My heart was racing.

Then suddenly I felt something, urging me to get away from the situation. It started as a whisper, but quickly built up to a demand. And the next thing I knew, it was as if my body were following silent divine commands. I turned to the key, shifted into first, and slammed on the gas, spraying gravel behind me. I was driving full tilt boogie until I hit 90 miles per hour. I remember thinking, go ahead, follow me to the police station. Then all of a sudden, that car passed me, and I saw that it was the guy from the gas station.

He was the fake cop. As he drove past me, I noticed the red siren light that he used was like the sirens that they sold at Spencer's gifts. I actually laughed at how ridiculous this was. Then I got pissed. I was furious. This piece of shit had seen that I had a baby with me at a gas station. He knew an innocent baby girl was in my car, but he wanted to harm me anyway. So to the rat bastard who posed as a cop, I don't know why you were pulling over and hunting vulnerable women on the 15, but let's never meet again.

This happened when I was a sophomore in high school, about 12 years ago. My girlfriend at the time, Katie and I were hanging out at a park in town. This was a rather big park with a stream running down. the middle of it. It was full of tucked away, shaded areas that were perfect for high school kids to hide away and do what we did. We lived in a relatively small town of about 20,000 people, and recently there had been a string of kidnappings. Three of our classmates, all girls, had been kidnapped, driven up to the canyon, and then let go on the side of the road. Law enforcement had come to our school, and we held an assembly where they told us that the

kidnapper was a male in his 30s who drove an old white two-door sedan. Now flash forward to the park. After we were done gallivanting in the trees, we were sitting on a bench by the street just talking when a white car pulled up across from us and parked. I turned to Katie and teased. Look at the white car over there. That's probably the kidnapper. We both laughed.

The sun was setting, and we decided. I decided it was best to head home. I told Katie, I just needed to use the bathroom before we left. And then I went to the public restroom that was right by the bench that we were sitting on and did my business. It's important to mention that this was before I had a smartphone, so I just had a sliding cell phone. So I didn't spend my whole bathroom time scrolling or looking at my phone, but rather just in my thoughts. When I came out of the bathroom, I noticed that Katie was gone. I called her name, and I looked around the bathroom building, but she wasn't around.

Initially, I thought that maybe she, too, had decided to use the bathroom. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone in the trees walking up the hill from the stream. I assumed it was Katie, and I walked down towards the individual. As I got closer, I noticed that it wasn't Katie, but it was a man. He looked fidgety. I figured maybe he had seen where Katie went. so I yelled, hey, to catch his attention and ask him. Instead of turning towards me, he bolted.

For some reason, I ran towards him. Now, I have to mention that I am a pretty big guy. I'm about 6'2, and in high school I weighed 225. I played linebacker for our school football team, so I was in shape and fast. I closed in on the guy quickly and slowed down because I just wanted to talk to him. He slowed down as I got closer, and we were only a few feet from the white car.

I asked, Have you seen the girl who was sitting here just a few minutes ago? He responded, I haven't seen a girl, sorry. Then he got into his white car, started the engine, and peeled away quickly. It was at that point that my naive teenager brain finally decided to pull out the phone and text Katie. When I did, I noticed. that I had 11 missed calls from her and five from her aunt with whom she lived. I quickly called her back. She answered breathlessly and asked, where are you? I asked her what was going on and she told me her

story. As soon as I had gone into the bathroom, the man in the car got out and approached her and said, excuse me, miss, I need you to come here. Katie's instincts kicked in right away and she ran. The man yelled, You can't run away from me, and called her a bitch. He began chasing her, but Katie was a regional champion track runner, so she managed to outrun him out of the park and get to her house,

which was only a block and a half away. She told her aunt and uncle about what happened and they tried to call me while her uncle called the cops. I walked to her house right away, and when I arrived, she hugged me tightly. Eventually, the cops arrived and we gave them our statements. My next-door neighbor who was a cop told me that they eventually found the car which was stolen, but they never found the man. There were no more kidnappings in our hometown

after that. I'm grateful that the kidnapper was a smaller guy who obviously was a bit of a wimp. I'm also grateful that he didn't have a weapon. It's pretty great that my girlfriend was so damn fast and her home was close by, or this story would have ended much differently. In spite of what you've heard on the news or online, THC products like Moods are still federally legal to buy online. And if you haven't checked out what they're doing over at Mood.com, you're missing out because they've figured out something most cannabis companies have not. Combining THC with carefully selected functional ingredients

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It was my little sister, our parents, and me. This was the kind of neighborhood that you lived in when you literally had no other option. It was a miserable existence. I was often tasked with watching my little sister who was three years younger than me. I also hated this. She and I had gone to play with some neighborhood kids and ended up staying out later than we were supposed to. I remember trying to rush my sister because I was afraid that I would get in trouble. I don't know why this one specific part sits with me in my head to this day,

but it makes me sad to think about. I remember pulling her arm really hard because she wasn't keeping up. On our way home, we ran into these two older guys from our neighborhood. They were somewhere in the range of late teens to early 20s. Literally everybody and our neighborhood hated these guys. They were always starting fights,

playing their music way too loud and driving way too fast. They were just the kind of people that you wouldn't want to hang around with. As I was pulling my little sister along, one of them charged me and picked me up. Twelve-year-old me was not having it, so I started fighting him, but eventually he just overtook me

and physically threw me into his backyard. I don't remember how the other bit happened, but the other one grabbed my sister and followed us. This would make sense to me later, but I noticed that their behavior was much more erratic than usual. For instance, one of them would periodically grab me by the head and squeeze it around my ears. This terrified me because I thought they were going to kill us. I was crying, but my sister held it together. I also recall that they would randomly just scream things at us.

Nothing that they were doing made any sort of sense. This went on for almost an hour. Then a cop car passed, and I remember screaming for help. He didn't hear me, but the two guys ended up letting us go. We then ran home and told our parents. My dad said that he would go and talk to the two guys, but he didn't do anything about it. My mom told me many years later, long after we had actually moved away from there

and into a good neighborhood, what happened on that night in question. One of our neighbors had brutally killed his wife and mother, had we kept running, we would have been in the midst of that. These two guys pretty much abducted us for the sake of protecting us, as weird as that sounds. From what I was able to piece together, they were screaming at us and covering our ears to prevent my sister and me from having to hear what was going on. They could have gone about it in a hell of a lot better way, but what's done is done.

I decided to share this story because I actually ran into one of those older boys recently. He's a cop now and has been on the force for about 10 years. He's very decorated and seems to be making a strong effort and keeping the streets safe. This was a creepy and scary experience, but I'm glad that there are still people who want to do some level of good. I worked security at a local university with an open campus in the heart of my city, which is in a bad area. This happened on a Tuesday at approximately 10 a.m. I had just finished patrolling Building A

and was walking to patrol Building B. There's about a three-block gap between buildings. In that three-block space, there are various stores and businesses, namely a subway. If you've ever been to Subway, you know that the entire front of the store is all glass windows, so you can see in.

I was walking by this subway, and something happened to catch my eye. You see, I was watching an armed robbery in progress. I had stopped walking, a bit stunned seeing this. In my six years of security, this was the first time I had ever seen a gun on the job, and the first time I had seen such an event. Not only did I notice the armed robber, but he noticed me, in my full bright reflective security vest. At this point, he aimed the gun directly toward my head.

One of the employees managed to distract the guy, and he turned to them to continue threatening them. I was outside, so remember I couldn't hear anything that was going on. I took this moment to run and get out of his view and hide around the corner so that I could radio for police to be called. The first cop car showed up in under five minutes. Once that officer saw what was going on, five more cars showed up

and a whole legitimate SWAT team arrived. They had the subway completely surrounded. I felt like I was watching a movie. The gunmen saw what was outside and let eight people go, but kept a single employee. He then, and this is the honest-to-god truth, forced the lone employee at gunpoint

to make him two 12-inch subs. I was watching him point out the vegetables that he wanted, using his gun. After the subs were made, he motioned for the cops to back away from the door, then he released his hostage. Once she was free, he locked the door, took his subs, and sat at the table with his back turned to the police, and proceeded to start eating the subs. After he ate one, the SWAT team broke the door down and fucked his shit up.

This was a creepy experience because I had never been more scared on the job, and this guy's decision to casually eat a sub-sandwich after attempting armed robbery with SWAT waiting to take his ass down was just bizarre. On my next shift after that, I saw a guy trying to steal a bike. I approached him and said, hey, stop trying to steal the bike. To which he responded by revealing that he was armed with a rambo-sized knife that he had concealed somewhere on him. And he did take a light jab towards me.

After that, I threw my hands up and said, The bike is yours, and I walked away. But I did call the police to report the incident. Stuff like this makes me love my job, but it's also important to remember to know my boundaries and keep myself safe. Stay safe, everyone. Summer calendars fill up fast,

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and enter promo code meat. That's Nutraful.com, spelled N-U-T-R-A-F-O-L dot com promo code meat. This encounter is the main reason I hate sports. Every sport. The stadiums may seem teeming and happy when there is a game going on, but when they're empty, it's a different story. I quit playing baseball when I was seven years old. It was very boring to me.

However, my brother played on various teams and was very good. I would go to his games to hang out with all the other kids my age and just get away from the house. I got comfortable with all of the facilities that his team played at, and I knew where the snack stands, bathrooms, and playgrounds were. I would bring books and toys with me and keep them in my dad's van just in case it got boring, and there was nobody to play with.

My dad never kept up with me, mostly because he was watching the game and my brother. Honestly, I was fine with this. I enjoyed the freedom. One summer when I was 11 years old, I went with my dad and sisters to watch my brother in a baseball tournament. It was an all-day sort of tournament, with multiple games. My sisters had found their friends on the bleachers and seemed pretty happy. My dad was with all the other team dads chatting and focusing on the, various games. At some point I grew tired of the metal bleachers and the absolute skull-numbing pace of the game, so I went up to the parking lot where my dad's Honda was parked. He never locked the door

as he didn't want to be bothered by me asking for the keys. I noticed one of the park workers riding around in a golf cart in the parking lot as I retrieved my book on the Vietnam War. I love reading nonfiction. He was staring at me. He was staring at me. as he cruised around. He made multiple laps as I made my way toward the stairs heading down to the football field opposite the baseball fields. Nobody was in the parking lot. They were all watching the games. The crack of the baseball bat and distant screams of encouragement only seemed to tell me that everyone was too far away. Yet he drove toward the roller hockey rink away from the fields. I thought that he must have thought I was breaking into the van,

but I shrugged it off, as any 11-year-old would. There was a creek that ran parallel to the sports facility. I had been there many times, as the facility where we were at was where my brother's team had practice. I ventured back there, and I sat and read for a while. After a few dozen pages, I noticed that the dense brush around me reminded me of the v. Vietnam, based on the pictures that I had seen in the book, that is. So I ran around for a bit,

with my pretend M-16 pretending to be ambushed. I was having a good time, much better than what I had gotten sitting and watching my brother's game. After a while, I noticed that the noise from the baseball fields had calmed. I thought the tournament was over, and I was hot, tired, and ready to go home. The trail that went from the creek to the baseball complex passed a maintenance shed, which was where they kept lawnmowers and such. When I passed it earlier, both of the main doors were closed and locked. But now one was raised. A golf cart was poised right outside the open door. I slowed a little bit, trying to see any movement from inside. As I started to pass by the open garage door, man came around the corner of the shed.

He said hey to me, called me his buddy, and coughed as cigarette smoke circled around his head. He stepped closer, and I recognized him. He looked dirty and greasy, but it was the man from earlier. What are you reading there? he asked. My heart was pounding, slamming in my ears. All I could manage to say was war, as I took two steps away from him.

He dropped his cigarette into the weeds. Which wore? There have been a lot of him, he said. His eyes were staring me up and down. I told him Vietnam, and he either coughed or laughed, as he kept getting closer step by step. He kept talking, but all I heard was the word handsome, almost like my mother would use to describe me. I didn't know what to do. I learned in school to just say no and run to the nearest adult

but there wasn't an adult in sight I knew that this man was bad though I knew it for a fact so I tried to put some distance between him and me but he saw what I was doing and he lunged at me he grabbed my collarbone and his momentum pushed me flat on my back

he landed on his knees with his left knee between my ankle He grabbed my groin while his other hand was on my left shoulder. He undid the top button of my shorts. As soon as his hand released the button, I kicked him as hard as I could in his ribs. I had been swimming since I was seven, so I at least had swimmer's legs,

and I was able to hurt him enough to give me some time to run. I then rolled over, pushed myself up, and started sprinting. Honestly, it felt like only a couple of seconds had passed when he first spoke to me. My hands went cold and I could hear my heartbeat as I went into shock and ran towards the baseball fields. I didn't know what was happening,

but I knew I needed to tell my dad. But then, when I reached the fields, there was nobody there, not a single soul. The fields in the stands were empty, and I didn't see any coaches or maintenance people either. The game had ended. There was nobody to go to. I was devastated.

Who was going to help me? I knew that I had to hide. I ran into the bathroom, which was just a single stall. I locked the door. I felt so nauseous that I threw up the pizza that I had for lunch.

I was crying because my dad wasn't there. Where was he? Why did he leave me? Was I that forgettable? I started heaving and sobbing. I caught up to the moment, however, and I thought of the brink. brave Marines I had just read about, and how they held out. I told myself to be quiet because the man

was still out there. So I pretended I was a Marine. I told myself I would be strong until the end. I still cried, but quietly on the dirty floor. I don't know how long I sat there. I just sat there next to my own vomit until I couldn't bear it anymore. I peeked under the crack of the door for a while, then eventually I picked myself up and began to breathe deeply. I knew the way to the parking lot. There has to be somebody there, I thought. If not, I'll just walk to a business or a house nearby and call my dad. I knew his number by heart, as well as my address.

After a few minutes, I unlocked the bathroom door and I booked it as fast as my legs could manage. Later, I realized I left my book behind, somewhere in the grass by the house by the shed. It was one of my favorite books. I mean, it helped me survive this encounter, and I have yet to find it since. I saw the golf cart back towards the football fields as I made my way up the stairs to the parking lot. I almost shrieked as I saw a few cars left. One was towing equipment for my brother's team. It was their head coach Tim. I ran over to his window, but I didn't even have to knock as he saw me coming and rolled down the window. Why are you still here? he asked, looking at me confused.

All I could say was that my dad forgot me. Coach Tim said that he would make sure that I got home to my dad. He called my dad and said that I was at the baseball fields when he found me. Then he took me to Dairy Queen to wait until my dad came to get me. He ordered me a brownie fudge Sunday and I swear to God I still get sick to my stomach to this day when somebody mentions Dairy Queen. I didn't touch the Sunday. I didn't even take a bite of it. My dad showed up and I got in the van. I was crying. He said that he was sorry for leaving me and promised it would never happen again and I cried all the way home. I told my parents what happened, but they didn't believe me. They said that nothing like that

could have happened. They said I had seen too much TV. I never went to another sports game again. Almost every recreational sport complex gives me severe anxiety. I don't even watch sports on TV. Fortunately, through school counseling as well as therapy, I've accepted what happened that day. I have distanced myself from my parents who continue to deny what happened. But I'm so glad that my instincts kicked in,

and I'm glad that I made it out of there alive. Stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended version of this week's episode. If you want 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 at a higher bit rate and bonus extensions with stories you won't hear anywhere else every single week. Again, that's patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. Be sure to send your stories into let's not meet stories at gmail.com. Check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like odd trails in the old-time radio cast and follow me on Twitch at twitch.tv slash cryptic county.

This week you have heard, he lived in the barn by Quick Under the Bed. My roommate's dog saved our lives by Queer Fox. The Man on the Trail by L. Ray. Dark and Desolate I 15 by No Bad Folks. The Time I chased off a kidnapper by T.0.95. A creepy encounter that saved my life by Tiny. I'll take two 12-inch subs and a SWAT team by Psycho Mouse and finally Why I Hate Baseball by Ryan Pucket Zero.

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. We'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. Stay safe.