Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 4x04: The Ice Cream Man - Let's Not Meet (Feat. Margerie)

Episode Date: June 22, 2020

Stories in this episode: He Stalked Us Until The Day He Died - khweh. This happened quite a long time ago - romelondonparis. Lost Bicycle - worldsbestsad. The Ice Cream Man - MoryhJudiith. Get 3 weeks of EveryPlate meals for only $2.99 per meal by going to EveryPlate.com and entering code meet3. For 50% off your first Care/of order, go to TakeCareOf.com and enter code meet50. To try Shudder free for 30 days, go to shudder.com and use promo code meet. Follow Let's Not Meet: - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast  - Merch - https://www.teepublic.com/user/letsnotmeet  - Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/letsnotmeetstreams

Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals. From courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development. Online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season four episode four of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. My guest narrator this week is an old friend from Summer Camp named Marjorie.

Enjoy the show. When I apologize if this gets lengthy, there's a lot to unpack here. This happened to one of my best friends and I back in 2017 and I feel like it's worth sharing. Some backstory my best friend Elise was dating this guy Mark in 2016. They broke up, right as New Year's was approaching. I've known Elise for over a decade, but we didn't talk much while they were together. I ran into them once at a local coffee shop, hugged her, and was chatting away while Mark stared at me and discussed, as if Elise wasn't allowed to talk to her friends. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming that he was just anti-social, I had no idea that he would go on to ruin an entire year of my life. It's really fuzzy as to how Mark got in contact with me specifically.

I believe Elise posted about her breakup and I offered my support publicly so he targeted me. It began on New Year's Eve. He started messaging me on Instagram over and over threatening me. I was having a get together with my then boyfriend, two of my now ex-best friends, and my now ex-best friends boyfriend. I remember seeing my notifications blowing up and ignoring it. Everyone else seemed more concerned than I was. I brushed it off until late the next day.

I checked my phone and I had dozens of DMs from Mark, as well as a few public posts that he tagged Elise and I in, calling us every name in the book, and claiming that I was the reason that they broke up. I answered his DMs, asking why he was targeting me. That was the biggest mistake I've ever made. After some angry messages from him, he blocked me, and I thought that it was over. I also had some missed calls from Elise, so I finally contacted her and asked what was going on. She frantically told me that Mark was a dangerous man and that he's been tormenting her since

the day that they became a couple. He would throw her around his apartment, leaving awful bruises that she sent me photos of. He would threaten to commit suicide if she left him, and he even threw a hissy fit at a local tattoo shop because they wouldn't tattoo Elise's first and middle name over his eyebrows. He got, quote, crybaby instead, which was fitting. Elise also informed me that Mark went to jail before meeting her for domestic abuse. He stabbed his ex-girlfriend and the leg and was only behind bars for a month before his

dad bailed him out. With this new information I was terrified, Elise told me where he lived, and it was directly behind the coffee shop I mentioned earlier. I frequented that building, and that part of town in general. That'll come into play later, I eventually calmed myself down though. I forgot about him, until he got my phone number. I still don't know how he got it, but I woke up to 30 plus messages from him in one day. That was horrified.

His messages included threats to kill himself if I didn't help him and Elise get back together. Threats to kill me. Crys for help, him blocking my number, and then unblocking it, just to start the cycle all over again. I, being very naive and not wanting to be held responsible if he actually did kill himself, did not block him. I asked him to leave me alone, and if he wanted a number to a hotline where he could get some help. He pretended to calm down for a bit. I gave him the number after many messages of him saying how much he missed Elise, but also wanted to kill her.

I told her immediately and pushed her to go to the police. She didn't. He conditioned her to believe that he would get into trouble if she reported him. This went on for months. I usually didn't respond, and when I did, he seemed to chill out for a little bit. I'm skipping ahead to a particular night where Elise and I were hanging out at my house. We were chatting away when my phone started to light up. I ignored it, and I just kept talking because I didn't want to be rude. Elise peaked at my phone and said, it's Mark. Look, sure enough, Mark was bombing my phone with threats to slit his own throat

because he knew Elise was at my house, calling us both cuts and claiming that it would be our fault if he died that night. I didn't answer, but what came next is something that still haunts me to this day. He sent a video. Being curious, I clicked it, at least watching over my shoulder. The video was of Mark's arm, a huge gash going down the middle of it. He was fake crying in the background saying, you made me do this, I fucking hate you both. He clenched his fist over and over again to make more blood gush out. Elise and I were so in shock that we watched the entire 52nd clip, despite how disturbing it was. I immediately called our local police station. Elise gave

them his address and an officer came down to my house to view the video and take down some notes. While we waited for the police to arrive, Mark posted a gruesome video to his Instagram, an unblocked Elise and I, just to tag us in it. He claimed that we told him to do it. his in it. He claimed that we told him to do it. Being a conventionally attractive guy, but with an e-boy aesthetic, the girls that swooned over him commented some pretty harsh things about us and kissed his ass like crazy. He was admitted to the hospital that night, and I wish they would have kept him, but the harassment continued the second he got out. Time traveling just a little bit more now to a few months later. Mark hadn't let up, and Elise and I were still very close.

We had a friend Kayla visiting from across the country. She also had a run-in online with Mark and hated him, but wasn't afraid of him. She was always carrying more than one weapon, some pepper spray, and she knew how to fight. So she suggested that we go take a walk in the part of town that he lived in. She wanted to visit that coffee shop, see some more of our small businesses, and then grab dinner at a local pizza rhea.

At least and I reluctantly agreed. We parked in front of the coffee shop, grabbed some drinks, and started to walk down the road. With it about five minutes, Mark drove by on his motorcycle. Elise and Kayla were immersed in conversation as I trailed behind. I looked up and made eye contact with Mark. Elise and Kayla noticed him as he sped off. Kayla assured us that he wouldn't get anywhere near us with her around. So we kept walking. Mark began circling the block that we were walking on his bike. As we crossed to the next block, he switched to that block, and he circled it, too.

On the third block was the pizza place. Their walls are glass, all see-through, of course. We went in, and we were seated in the corner, right next to the glass. We sat there for about an hour and a half, eating, talking, and sipping soda. Mark circled the restaurant the entire time and we did our best to ignore him. Once we finished and got up to leave, Mark sped off and we didn't see him again that evening. Some time passed and Mark began writing by Elise's house every night. Within a week he started doing the same thing to me. I told my parents

and my stepfather, who kept a close eye on our street. My mom always made sure that our doors and windows were locked, shades were shut, etc. Before going to bed. My dad would even do a nightly, quote, patrol, where he would drive around my street for a few minutes on his way home from work since he no longer lived there. He would call me and let me know that the coast was clear as he was leaving. I still woke up almost every night to the sound of his motorcycle engine revving outside my house. We had no proof of this to show the police because he was somehow doing this without a trace, so we

didn't bother reporting it. At the end of 2017, Mark took his motorcycle and sped off to California to avoid the legal trouble that he had got into. Elise and I were relieved to say the least. He still harassed us from time to time, but he never came back. We stopped tearing from him for a while, then we thought nothing of it. Fast forward one last time to September of 2019, Elise and I were out and about, enjoying the sunshine, when she got a phone call. Mark was dead. He had died right after his calls and messages had stopped.

He got into it with a new drug dealer in Arizona and pissed them off just enough for them to shoot him. He died instantly. He also caught two more domestic violence charges in California and Arizona and was on the run from his warrant. His father told everyone it was accidental overdose because Mark was known for abusing Xanax and other miscellaneous drugs, but it was to cover his sociopathic son's ass. I'm not sure if Mark's death was his karma or some higher being protecting us and all

of the girls that he hurt before and Would hurt in the future But he's gone We never have to worry about our safety because of him ever again Although seeing photos of him does still give me the creeps Mark, I don't know where you are but This world is better off without people like you.

I'm so glad you're gone. Let's never ever meet again. This episode of Let's Not Meet is brought to you by Every Plate. Experience full plates and even fuller wallets with America's best value meal kit. I'm always a bit skeptical thinking that these meal kits are probably too expensive for me, but even at regular price, every plate is up to 58% cheaper than other major meal kits out there, even cheaper than takeout or delivery. They're easy to follow recipes, and pre-portioned ingredients take out the stress of dinner time.

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It was a long time ago, before cell phones were prevalent, and I was a mom in my early 30s who had just driven our kids to the pediatrician. The Macon Georgia doctor's office was an hour away from our home, and I was just taking the two youngest of my three, then ages one and three years old, to our scheduled appointment. Because we lived so far away, their office always gave us the last two appointments of the day, and we were grateful. The doctor had just built a new building off of a fresh spur of the highway, so the location was quite isolated in every direction,

but a very nice facility compared to a z old spot by the hospital there. His new building was also pretty far back on the new lot, and my car, a black Jeep Cherokee we had owned for two years, was one of only four or five cars in the parking lot when we got there. I parked near the front door, removed the kids from their car seats, and for the next hour or so we waited, then saw the doctor, paid, and finally exited back outside. Mine was the only car left in the lot as I loaded the children in their car seats for our trip home. But as the receptionist locked the front glass doors, my car somehow wouldn't start when I turned the key.

There was just an odd clicking noise. Gathering the children once again, I knocked on the door until someone allowed a spack-in and asked a brother phone to call a nearby garage for service. I found one in the phone book in the man said that he would come but that it might be a bit, so I told him my location, left to go back out to the car, rolled down all the windows and loaded the children back into their seats once more as we waited. Soon we watched as all the lights returned out in the building again and everyone left. Their cars departing one by one from behind the building somewhere, leaving us now completely

alone in the parking lot. As it was still light, I spent a lot of time trying to tend to the children, digging through our car for snacks in a bottle, making sure that they weren't getting too hot, etc. Although the service station attendant said it was probably going to be quite a while, I was pleasantly surprised when a truck pulled into the empty parking lot pretty soon and a man got out of his pickup. Smile then nodded to me and said he was going to raise the hood. He was middle aged in a bit scruffy, but quite frankly many gas station attendants sometimes look that way, especially at the end of the day. And I was grateful when he began doing something under the hood almost immediately.

I sat down again in the dry receipt with the door open, waiting for him to tell me to try the engine, but he seemed to be taking a long time checking the connections and I longed for him to just grab jumper cables, yet he never did. Without getting out of the car, I asked him what he thought was wrong and he said, oh, it's just a loose wire, not the battery, and continued doing whatever he was doing. I couldn't see his face at all from where I was sitting, but his hands were slightly visible

through that long horizontal slit between the windshield and the raised hood as we waited. More than once, he said that it was merely a loose wire and, if I would just come up here really quick, he would show me which one it was, so it would never happen again. I remember kind of smiling and shaking my head. Saying that sadly there was no reason to show me anything as I didn't know anything about cars. I just thanked him and continued to stay in the driver's seat. Again just waiting for the inevitable signal to try to start the ignition that was most surely coming any moment. At one point I remember thinking he was definitely flirting as he spoke, but I was trying above all to be polite and kind as he was indeed helping us.

He were hot and tired and miserable, and truthfully I was distracted with the kids. Oddly enough, he was starting to sound a little frustrated with me because I wouldn't come up and look at the engine. I remember thinking that I certainly didn't want to make him mad where he loved us there all alone, with the sun sinking so quickly. And then the strangest thing happened. Another truck suddenly pulled into that desolate parking lot. And as it did, this nice guy working underneath my hood suddenly slammed its shut, ran to

his truck, started it, and drove away very quickly, without even seeing a word of goodbye. I was both confused and a little anxious when he did this, because I didn't know who was now arriving. I even remember feeling a little frightened that he had suddenly left me there alone with two little ones defenseless. Why wouldn't he at least stay and speak to whoever was parking next to me now? It certainly seemed like the suddenly gentleman thing to do.

I looked around and was very aware, once again, that there were no visible cars on the road, no homes or businesses nearby, and the sun was continuing to set quickly. As this new, also unmarked,marked pickup pulled in next to me, a got out of the car once again, this time more apprehensively. Upon exiting, though, he immediately introduced himself and his name and voice seemed to match who I'd spoken to on the phone much earlier.

He then actually called me by my name, apologized for being so late, and finally, smiled and stared towards the road, pointing and asking who the man was that it just left so suddenly. Relieved and unfazed, I just smiled back and surprised and told them, Well, I don't know, I thought all this time he was you! And we both laughed slightly as he then grabbed jumper cables, walked to the front of my car, raised the hood and started to work.

I immediately sat back in the driver's seat once more. Suddenly, grateful that, with luck, that air conditioner would be blowing full blast shortly, and once again checking the children. While listening for the familiar words, try it! I had my back completely turned towards the children. When he surprised me by suddenly coming to the driver's side door. In the strangest voice, he said, um, ma'am, is this yours? And when I looked into his hands, he was holding a long, thin, dagger-like-looking device that was about a foot-and-a-half in length, it appeared to be very old and covered with reddish rust. Yet on one end, it had tiny circular, small finger holes, as if it was a mix of a long thin sword and scissors, oddly combined.

I remember being amazed, but not frightened, and I asked where he had found them. Under the hood, he replied. I said just matter of factly that I had never seen them before. But how weird was it that those things had somehow been stuck and undiscovered in my car for all those years and shook my head in surprise? He continued to stand there and stare at them, unbelievably, and he looked oddly pale,

too. Like, he couldn't find the words to speak for a bit, just continuing to stare at the unusual object. Honestly, I didn't care when bit about it. All I could think of was getting the car going, letting me pay him, how much it would cost and leaving. He didn't say anything else. Just quickly set them on the curb, started his truck, and then signaled for me to start the jeep. And when it immediately caught my three-year-old cheered. Grateful, I quickly turned on the air conditioner full blast, rolled up all the windows, aimed

the air vents back towards the back seat, and reached for my purse to pay out. I stood up and took a few steps to meet him so I could hear the amount now owed. With both of our vehicles running, he came back around to my driver's side, but instead of handing me the bill, irritated me a bit by walking right past me and picking up that weird object once more. Ma'am? He said slowly. I want you to look at these one more time and held them out for closer inspection.

This time, I moved a bit closer and actually really looked. In his hands, the items still appeared incredibly large, possessing an almost banit-looking quality except for the strangely small two loops on one end. I had never seen anything like it, and told him so. As he held it, he spoke quietly and slowly to me, as if trying desperately to make me understand something that was somehow still going over my head. These weren't hidden somewhere in the engine, ma'am. They hadn't been there very long

at all, because they were sitting right on top. They must have just been put there. I shook my head no, and half-smile, as I said, but they're obviously very old and rusty, to which he pointed more closely and replied. Yeah, but see how sharp they are? These look like they've just been sharpened. And when I looked down, he was right. The long, skinny, dagor-like shape was unusual, but by far the oddest quality was just how sharp it appeared to be. The edges at the tip were the rust had been removed with the lemong

silver. As I paid him, his final words to me were, ma'am. I don't know what was about to happen here, but I'm really glad I pulled up when I did. He quietly thanked me when taking the payment, told me that I probably needed to call the police when I got home, and then asked me where I wanted the item. I didn't want to touch it, didn't want to take it at all. But I released the back window so he could place it inside. We both then left the lot together. I am turning one way, me turning the other towards a small winding highway that would

lead me home, still an hour away. I did, indeed, contact the Macon police, the moment that we arrived home and I got the children inside safely. But although they listened politely, they declined when I offered to bring the scissor like thing to them later. The officer I spoke to said they sounded as if they were specialized surgical shears, from my description and measurements on the phone, which I found quite disturbing, as you can imagine. I remember wondering how he would even know that. Why would he say that? I had tried so carefully not to touch any of the surfaces, hoping that they might be able to left prints or test it for blood if they wanted, But the story seemed to bore him a bit, and he didn't seem interested. His attitude insinuated that, as there was no longer an emergency, it was of no importance

now. At the very end of the call, as if to wind things up, he did say that it sounded as if I was very lucky, and that I might want to keep the shears for a few days, just in case someone from his office got back with me later. But that was all. I wrapped them carefully, newspaper, and placed them in the brick storage unit behind our house. And there they remained for several more years, untouched, until we moved away, and I finally, not wanting to bring them across several states, reluctantly through them in the trash. Around that time, though, if you look through old news reports, women were going missing all over Georgia.

Some bodies were eventually found, but others remain missing to this very day. I have often wondered what would have happened if the service station attendant hadn't arrived when he did. If my children would still have a mother, if I would have still had my son and daughter, if I would have missed all these years with them, I guess I'll never know, but I learned something very important about myself that day. I had always felt that I was pretty aware of my surroundings, pretty good at reading people and staying safe, but because I was exhausted, tired and hot,

and stranded in a different city, my common sense and intelligence simply left me for a bit and wasn't working at the time. And many of my friends and family still think that our car trouble that day and my lack of awareness could easily have cost us our lives. [♪ Music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in background, music playing in forward moment. no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Giga-Gillionaire with AT&T fiber, limited availability and select areas,

visit atvt.com slash Hypergate for details. Honestly, I never hear anyone talk about it seriously, but living in small towns seems to make people cruel. Maybe it's just the sheer boredom that brings out the worst in people. Anyways, this is the first time I've ever posted here, so please bear with me. I grew up in a rural Texas town with the crippling meth problem,

no positive outlets for people to do activities like movie theaters or a park, and we didn't even have a large grocery store, at least not one large enough to just hang out in. The teens mostly ended up drinking, driving, and going to bonfires. But quite a few of these teenage boys in my neighborhood decided that being evil was the best way to have fun. They would literally go out of their way while driving to swerve and try to scare younger

kids riding bikes, or poison loose dogs and even set fire to a few of the trailers in my neighborhood while people were still in them. Only one arrest was ever made in connection to the arsons, but it definitely had been a group activity. My neighborhood was a trailer park in which each trailer was placed on a few acres of a land, with at least some forested area between each plot of property. The road was an older dirt road with gravel and rocks poured over the dirt,

which is what I had to learn to ride a bike on. It was difficult. One day, I was around 10, so 15 years ago. I was doing my best to ride my bike on this rock road, without falling, while riding away from my house, when I saw my older sister who was about 16 at the time sprinting alongside the road towards me from the opposite direction. I was going very slow trying to keep my balance, but decided to just get off the bike when I noticed how panicked my sister looked.

I saw a dust cloud coming from the road. But a fairly large hill was blocking the view of my sister and I from any vehicles that were coming towards us. When my sister got to me, she grabbed my arm so hard that I winced in pain and she pulled me away from my bike. By this time, the truck that was producing the dust trail was just coming over the hill, but was still fairly far away, so I don't think that they noticed us. There are woods around ten feet off both sides of the road, where I was, and my sister

was pulling me into the woods on the left side of the road. I complied, but was asking her what was happening. She just told me to hurry. We made it about 30 feet into the woods when my sister dropped to the ground and pulled me with her. She covered my mouth and told me to be quiet. I complied. I saw that the vehicle she was worried about was a black truck filled with five guys that were in their late teens or early 20s. The trucks screeched to a stop right where my bike was.

I froze solid when I heard my sister whisper. Shit! Three of the guys got out of the car, but didn't say anything. It was clear that they were looking very intensely into the woods on both sides of the road. Luckily, for some reason, I'm not sure of. They all lined up and started approaching and walking into the woods on the opposite side of the road. They were talking, but we couldn't make out what they were saying.

I was worried that they would take their time looking for us since only a handful of people lived this far down the road, and it could have taken hours before another car would pass through. It took about five minutes of perfect stillness and silence before one did, though. One of the guys had already placed my bike in the back of their truck when I noticed another car coming over the hill behind them. They quickly jumped into the truck and sped off. I waited there for probably 10 more minutes before we stood up and started the walk back home. Although we walked right along the tree line instead of on the road itself, just in case. My sister didn't say much to me, but told

my mom when we got home that one of the boys that she had been hanging out with was talking about wanting to kill some of the more annoying kids in the neighborhood. And she assumed that it was a good bet that one of those annoying kids might end up being one of her three younger siblings. It could have been any of us, but I was the one that wanted to go for a ride on my bike alone that day instead of playing video games with my two brothers. She decided to head home when none of the other guys seemed to go against what the guy

was talking about. He was talking about wanting to kill kids and even jokingly escalating the desire to kill annoying kids with more details. She had been running home and got just enough of the head start before the boys hopped into their truck to stop whatever they might have done. The cops were informed, but apparently the boys disagreed and a parent claimed that they never left the trailer, so nothing ever came of it. I knew two of the boys' names because we lived in the same neighborhood in this small town, names because we lived in the same neighborhood in this small town, and I know they never got less evil. They later invited my sister to a bonfire party that everyone was going

to be at, so they said. But my sister decided not to go, and when she asked all of her friends how the party was, literally no one knew anything about it. That is because she was the only one invited. She stayed away from them ever since, unfortunately, neither of us still live there. Of the two that I knew, one is currently incarcerated for several drug-related offenses, but the other is still out there. As far as the other three that were in the truck, I have no idea where they are or what they're up to. So to the garbage boys in the truck, you can keep my bike because I hope we never meet

again. Back in my high school years, I'd often meet with a few friends at a local Duncan Donets, which was conveniently near a railway we'd all take to our weed guys house. My closest friend at the time, Katie, and I usually met up earlier than everyone else just to hang out, order our extra large drinks and hash browns, and attempt at some, hey, mister? Shenanigans to score some tall boys from anyone willing to buy a spear. I'd consider us to be pretty naive and overly nice girls, which never proved to be an issue to either of us,

until we were nice to the wrong person. Now for a little background of my hometown, I grew up in the forgotten burrow of New York City, Stan Island. For those who were unaware, there was, and kind of still is, a pretty horrendous opioid epidemic. So seeing Zobby-like civilians strolling the streets is fairly common. Because of this, I became pretty good at spotting out someone struggling with heroin and things of the sort. Anyways, on this one day, Katie and I met up at Duncan and sat at our usual booth. We were in the midst of messing around with our phones and being our overly giggly selves when I noticed out of the corner of my eye, someone suddenly stopped outside of the glass door. Still smiling, I glanced over to see if it was maybe one of our friends.

And ended up making direct eye contact with the basic Staten Island looking dude. I looked away and bothered and carried on, just another customer anyways. After the guy got his coffee, he sat directly at the table across from our booth. I chose to ignore the fact he sat weirdly close and resisted eye contact, since that already awkwardly happened, but I guess the motion caught Katie's attention and she looked over her shoulder at the man settling in. She looked back at me, made a face that said, okay, and we just giggled and tried to move on. Every now and then I glanced in his direction, mainly just because I like to be observant

of my surroundings, but also because I kept seeing him scratch at his nose, neck, and face in my peripheral vision, and noticed he was bleeding from various little cuts on his body. This was a dead giveaway he was doing some form of opiate as they tend to get very itchy and scratch until they break skin. A few minutes later, the man asked if one of us had a charger he could borrow. I kindly denied and Katie only had an iPhone charger while the man clearly had an Android phone. This slight exchange was enough for the man to feel invited and he'd continue to make comments for quite some time.

Being that this was about four years ago, I don't remember the entire conversation, but I do remember him often asking general questions, like if we live around here, what we do on our free time, and creepy things of this sort. I was pretty vague, but polite, and my responses,

but Katie was always a bit more enthusiastic in her words, making it pretty easy for this guy to reciprocate and basically join our conversation altogether. In Katie's innocent stupidity, the guy basically found out some of the main train stops we get off at to hang in those areas. He also found out that we would indulge in the Devil's Lettuce, which only made this guy feel even more inclined. At some point he mentioned how his ex-girlfriend got him into some trouble, got him into heroin, which he used to sell, served jail time for, and pretty recently got out.

He also mentioned how he's been an ice cream truck driver ever since his release, and told us that he's always driving around the train stops Katie mentioned earlier. He also repeatedly offered to give us rides around in his truck some day with free ice cream as the bribe. Again, we were pretty naive and overly nice girls, Katie more so than I. So one thing led to another, and eventually this guy was asking for Katie's social media what she happily obliged to. She's always been really dedicated to expanding her follow-up account. Throughout this entire exchange, I was mostly just nodding, smiling, laughing here and there, so my remaining silent during the social media exchange won unnoticed.

However, once the guy started following Katie on Instagram, he quickly found mine through a tagged picture on her page. I wasn't private at the time, so he immediately started liking and commenting on nearly every one of my pictures. The comments were extremely cringy, consisting of hard eye and water-squirt emojis and things like, damn maw. Finally, after the longest half-hour ever, I urged we should really be catching our train. Fortunately, the man wasn't persistent after that, and we were on our way with no problem. After some verbal recap of what just happened,

I convinced Katie to block him and I did the same. We brushed it off with that. I honestly forgot about the strange interaction until about a week later. I was hanging out with some friends at a park near my high school when munchies made me crave Ralph's ices, which was just up the block. I ventured off with one other friend and almost made it to the store before the sound of

an ice cream truck approached from behind us. Completely lost in conversation. My attention was only caught by the high-pitched screeching of the truck's brakes and a somewhat familiar voice. Of course, it was him. He shouted out to me, but with Ralph's only a couple feet in front of us, I ignored him and rushed in with my friend. The guy didn't stick around being that he was blocking the whole lane on a narrow two-way road, but we still called our friend at the

park to pick us up in his car. For the next two weeks, there was about four times this man tried to pick me up in his truck. At this point, making me pretty paranoid, I was potentially being stalked. The last time it happened, he was parked directly outside one of the train stops. Almost as if he was waiting for me. He again called out to me asking why I blocked him and saying he just wants to be friends. At this point, I had enough and told him to just leave me alone. My dad's a lieutenant, which was a lie, but slipped out in my defense. I walked away before he could respond, and into the diner I was meeting my friends at that night.

I saw his truck drive away in the window, and never had an interaction with the ice cream man again. The sound of an ice cream truck has haunted me ever since. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. This week you have heard, he stalked us until the day he died by Reddit user KH Way, the ice cream man by Reddit user MoriH Judith, lost by a sickle by Reddit user World's best sad. And finally, this happened quite a long time ago by Reddit user Rome London Paris. Stories you've heard this week were produced and narrated with the permission of their

respected authors. If you'd like to hear your story on the show, please email me at Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Thanks again to my good friend Marjorie for appearing on the show this week, it was a pleasure to have you. Don't forget if you'd like to gain access to all of the bonus content from Let's Not Meet, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to support the show. I'll see you guys next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet.

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