Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 4x15: It Wasn't My Roommate - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: September 7, 2020

Stories in this episode: Creepy man tried to kill me and my friend - anarchistSwordfish. To the ‘cop’ who broke into my house at 2am....let’s not meet. - Human_DumpsterFire. "I Keep Forgetting You're 14" - essstabchen, Door opened too slowly to be my roommate - ConweyTiddy. Visit betterhelp.com/meet to get 10% off your first month! Join the over 1,000,000 people in taking charge of their mental health with the help of an experienced professional today.  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://letsnotmeetmerch.com - Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/letsnotmeetstreams

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My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 4 episode 15 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. This happened when both me and my friend Jay were 15. I was spending the night at his house, as I often did. It was a normal enough night. We watched movies, played a couple of video games, and stayed up way too late. I think it was about 2 a.m. when we heard a loud banging coming from the front door. Luckily, at the time we were in his kitchen, at the back of the house, so no one could see us.

We were still pretty spooked because there shouldn't have been anyone at the door at this hour. But we figured it was just some drunk person, and they'd go away soon enough. After about thirty seconds, there was more banging on the door, and yelling that neither of us could really understand. It sounded like an adult man, and he was angry, so we were both pretty scared. He texted his mom who he thought was upstairs. She had left a bit before, without saying.

She did that often enough. She liked to go out to her friends' houses in the middle of the night so we didn't pay any attention or notice that she left. We didn't know what to do. As we were scared to call the police, based off of past experiences with the cops in our small town, not being the best. At this point, we turned off the kitchen light and we ducked down to the ground. We heard the banging and yelling, getting louder. I decided to see who it was. If it was

anyone we knew. My army crawled through the dining room, which was also dark and peaked through the door to the living room, which is where the front door was. There's a huge window by the door that you can see right into the dining room through, so I was very careful not to be seen. I couldn't see any details about the man, but he looked to be about six feet tall and had gray hair. I crawled back to Jay, and we quietly decided what to do. The knocking finally stopped, so we decided to wait just a bit before seeing if it was safe. We also decided to go under the table in the dining room,

in case he tried to come around back, which is where the kitchen was. After around ten minutes of silence, we rocked paper scissored for who would case he tried to come around back, which is where the kitchen was. After around 10 minutes of silence, we rocked paper scissored for who would go to check and see if he was there. Of course I lost. So again I army crawl to the dining room door. I saw the man staring through the window. Hands cupped against the glass. I made eye contact

with him the moment he saw me, and I loudly said, shit, causing my friend to panic and crawl behind me. I saw him pull out his phone. He told me later that he was texting his mom to come home and save us. The man started yelling again, and this time we could make out a bit more of what he said. It was mostly cursing, although I did definitely hear the phrase I'm going to kill you a couple of times. I quickly looked past the man to see if any of the neighbors noticed him, but no luck. I crawled back out of his sight, and again, discussed what to do with my friend. We decided to go into the basement for safety, which you could get to by moving the fridge.

It's a confusing house, I know, but it was really old and not meant for modern-sized appliances. I was saying no, but it was really old and not meant for modern-sized appliances. We pulled the fridge out, get into the basement, and we're feeling mostly safe, but terrified still. I start having a panic attack. Although I'm trying to hold it together, as best as I can for Jay, who was on the verge of a panic attack as well. We hear gunshot and shattering glass from above us. I cover my mouth so I don't scream.

Jay and I look at each other, terrified. We hear loud footsteps and yelling just above us, the man asking where we went. We hear him going upstairs and running around. He eventually comes back down and starts turning over furniture. I'm assuming to find us. After what felt like hours, but were probably just minutes, Jay's mom pulls into the driveway, which scares the guy, as he runs out of the back door in the kitchen. Jay and I get out of the basement and run to greet his mom never happier to see her.

She was shocked by the state of the house in Huckbuss, happy that we were safe and scared by how close we were to being hurt. After that night, they had better security installed, and we went over safety protocol if anything ever happened again. Luckily it hasn't happened yet. Although when I go to his house, I'm still scared. We never called the police because we knew there wasn't much that they could even do. We just cleaned up and moved on. A few years ago, I lived in one of the most beautiful, yet crime-ridden cities in America. At this time, I lived upstairs in a building with four apartments.

The building layout is relevant, so I'll explain. It's a square building with two apartments upstairs and two downstairs. In the front of the house, there were three doors. Two led to the downstairs apartments, and the middle door opened to a stairway. At the top of the stairway was a landing, where mine and my neighbor's doors were located. We upstairs tenants rarely used the front door unless we needed to get the mail because our parking was in the alley behind the house and we had our own individual entrances there. I should also note, the door at the bottom of the front stairs was always locked, even though we had solid

front doors that led directly into our apartments. If you didn't know the building, you might assume the middle door led straight to an apartment and not the staircase. Anyways, it all happened when I was about 24. I'm a 30 year old female. I was living on my own with two large but very friendly pit bulls. The other three apartments were all occupied with people who went to the nearby art college. This happened the first week of school break so everyone had

gone home to visit their family and whatnot. Anyway, it was about 2 a.m. and I had just gotten into bed when my dog started getting antsy and running from my bedroom to the front door. I wasn't expecting company, so I decided to look out the people. No one was there in the motion sensor light that goes off when someone gets to the top of the stairs had not come on. I calmed down the dogs, though they wouldn't take their attention off of the door. I went back to bed. A minute later, my dogs were up and whining at the door again. What the fuck?

I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. I decide to investigate thinking maybe a mouse or a rat had somehow gotten into the front hallway and the dogs can smell it or something. So I unlock and open the front door at the bottom of the stairs. Making his way up towards me was a police officer with his head down trying to silently creep up the stairs. Through the crack in my door, a yell. What the fuck is going on? Why are you in my building?"

Meanwhile, my dogs start barking behind me, probably because they could tell how nervous I was. He stops creeping and looks up the stairs towards me. I'm not sure he could see me because my lights were off and the motion light had not come on yet. This guy looks so startled and so surprised, like a kid caught red-handed, stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. It takes him a few seconds to answer me.

And he says something along the lines of, I noticed a backyard fire at this address. It was creating too much smoke. So I say, there's no one having a bonfire here. If there was, why did you decide to come into my house instead of ringing the doorbell? I'm now pissed, but also scared. Do you see any smoke around my house? Why didn't you just drive down the alley behind the house to check the backyard?

By the time I finished the questions, he had backed down a few steps and began shutting the door while saying, I'm sorry. His behavior was so weird and not at all like the pompous, confident way most police officers in my area behave when they think they get to flex their badge. I wait a minute by my door and make sure that he's not coming back in. I grab my dogs and take them to lock the bottom door and make sure my apartment door is thoroughly dead bolted chained and the knob is locked. I went to my back patio and I looked down on where we have a fire pit.

We have teaky torches and there's a grill. None of them had been used for weeks. Not only that, but there wasn't any smoke anywhere. None of the people on my block that night had had any kind of grill started or backyard fires. There wasn't even the smell of smoke, let alone a thick enough to warrant cops coming by. moek, let alone a thick enough to warrant cops coming by. I have no idea what that quote unquote cop was talking about. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see what he really looked like other than a tall man, or get his badge number. And by the time I finished inspecting my backyard for smoke, I went to see if I could get the license plate off of his cruiser, but of course he was gone. The next day I checked to see if the lock on my front door was

broken, because how would he be able to get in if the door was locked? I make sure every time that I get the mail because I've been diagnosed with OCD. There were scratches all over the lock as if someone had been picking at it. It was a fairly new lock, so the scratches had been pretty recent. I called the local precinct and asked if they had a call about my address. They confirmed what I thought.

They didn't send anyone out here last night. I ended up asking them to send someone out to take a report. None of the officers that showed up matched what I saw from the guy the night before. Of course, no prints were found and nothing ever came of it. Until this day, I'm terrified to call the police to my house and Casey shows back up. I shudder to think what that guy's real motivations were and what would have happened if I didn't have my powerful dogs there to protect me so. Officer, let's not meet. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to

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Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. A TNT Fiber presents a straightforward moment. Your wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too.

Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber. you a better one. First post, but I have had my fair share of creepy dudes, so I figured I'd share one of the standouts. This happened when I was 14, well over 10 years ago at this point. I grew up in a mid-sized town, with quite a few suburbs and industrial areas kind of

mashed together. The downtown was nothing special except for coffee shops and some historic buildings. I went out alone after school a lot because I liked having independence avoiding being home and listening music. I typically left my house before my mom got home close to 5 pm and was back before dark, which, depending on the season, was anytime between 7 and 9 pm. I had a cell phone, a flip phone at the time, so my mom felt safe, letting me go out alone, as I could call her at any time. Most of the time, as a 14-year-old I would go to the same coffee shop, get something filled

with sugar and caffeine, and try to draw or write while listening to music. I went there so often that they knew my order and the approximate time that I would come in. I was the token goth kid around town, and I looked older than I really was, the curse of developing early. So I guess I was easy to remember. One day, I was sitting in my usual spot at a table by the window, trying to draw. I'm not a very good artist. And I can see some guy staring at me from the booth facing my table on my left. I'm pretty used to this feeling, so I just continued drawing. A little later, the man comes up to me and asks to borrow a pencil. A smile and give him one, and just go back to what I'm doing. Shortly after that, he comes up again and asks if he can talk to me.

He wanted me to join him at his booth. At this point in my life, I had already been approached by men who typically backed off once they learned my age. I also was terrified of making a grown man angry because in my mind it was better to pacify someone than to provoke them. I figured an angry man might be more prone to hurt me, so I acquiesced and sat at the booth with him. He slid into the booth beside me, which was very uncomfortable. But he hadn't made physical contact yet. He gets to talking and tells me that he's very nervous when talking to women, and that I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

I try to take the compliments quietly and laugh them off, waiting for my opening to tactfully tell him that I'm basically a child. I ask him what he does for a living and how old he is. He responds that he's a construction worker and he's 21 years old. Then he asks me what I do, I say. Well, I'm still in high school because I'm 14. He's taken a back a little bit.

I can see it on his face. Mentally, I'm preparing to make my exit, because now that he knows I'm a minor, I can get out of this. I was wrong. He doubles down on telling me that I'm a minor, I can get out of this. I was wrong. He doubles down on telling me that I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He then proceeds to tell me that he remembers every outfit I've worn since he first saw me two months ago.

Since I go out almost every day, that's a lot of outfits. And he describes them. He tells me what his favorite outfit of mine is. I take the same route to the coffee shop from my house every single day, so he must hang out somewhere along there. Did he follow me to the coffee shop? Has he been stalking me? At this point, I'm freaking out inside, but I'm trying to keep my cool until I can figure out a way to gracefully exit the situation. We make small talk. I'm

still scrambling for a way out, and I tried to distance myself from him in the booth. He puts his arm around my shoulders, and a few moments later, he says, I keep forgetting here for 14. I can feel myself tense up at this point. I try to stammer through something and laugh it off. I notice that it's getting dark out and I say, I really need to be getting home. My mom will be worried about me, trying to play it up

that I'm still pretty much a kid. He resists and says that I should come to the park with him and his friend. The park is on the way home, so I tell him that and says that I should come to the park with him and his friend. The park is on the way home, so I tell him that I can walk past it, but I really should be getting home. His friend was already at the coffee shop, unbeknownst to me, but sitting further away. So he introduces us, and we all leave. I don't remember the walk to the park, but when we got there, he tries to convince me to walk down the hill into the now very dark park with him and his friend, to adult men.

I tell him I really have to go home, that I have school in the morning, and that I'm sure we'll run into each other again. I finally make my exit, and begin feeling some relief. I'm maybe a block away from the park, when his friend comes chasing after me and tells me that they have coupons for tacos and goes on about how much his friend likes me and wants to take me out. I'm kind of incredulous at this point. He's trying to impress me with taco coupons. I tell him no and I'm a kid, and I have school.

Luckily the friend bags off, and I safely make it home. I start changing my route. I didn't go to that coffee shop for a while after that. I run into the guy and his friend separately a couple of times after that. The guy himself pulled up in a minivan a few months after the incident and offered me a ride home. Luckily, I was pretty close to my house and managed to negotiate my way out of it. His friend struck up an unrelated conversation with me at the library almost a year later.

I'm an adult now, and that was far from my last encounter with adult men that didn't care that I was a minor. But creepy guy who wanted to hook up with 14-year-old me, I hope you never meet another minor that you try to impress with free tacos. And let's not meet ever again. It's my first time posting a long story like this, so I apologize if it's not very refined. So this happened about three years ago when I was a sophomore in college. I had just moved into my very first apartment with my best friend Ron. On par with most first apartments, it was the cheapest four walls and roof that we could afford.

That being said, we were witnesses to a lot of questionable activities in our complex, as there were a fair amount of eccentric people. Yet the freedom of having a very own place is exhilarating, and acted as a sort of counterbalance to the shenanigans that were commonplace in our new community. In any case, we made sure to be vigilant and keep our doors locked. Well, most of the time. It was Monday, around 2 in the afternoon, and I was just getting back from my morning string of classes. Ron Dabbles and Gamer Culture, and would usually be going to bed when I got up around 9am. So, he's dead asleep. I was in sort of a rush as I had

to finish up my paper before my 4 p.m. class, so I went swiftly to my room. I pulled out my laptop, plugged in my headphones and began to type away. After about 30 minutes of typing and ava, blaring in my ears, I noticed my door began to slowly open. The movement was lethargic and cautious, yet it stopped abruptly after the door had opened about one inch wide. More specifically, after I took notice, unable to see anything through the open sliver, I become inquisitive, assuming it's Ron, I call out. What?

No response. What do you want? No response. Bro, what the fuck do you want? The door remained cracked as I demanded answers until my annoyance became clear, and my tone began to change. Then it methodically closed as slowly as it opened. So slow, in fact, it almost didn't latch. Still under the assumption that it's Ron, I began to get even more annoyed. that it's Ron, I begin to get even more annoyed. Ron and I have a colorful relationship, so we frequently yell and swear at each other.

Bro, seriously, what the fuck do you want? I'm trying to write a paper. Ron? Ron, stop fucking with me, bro, and just tell me what he want. After this third yell, something makes my heart sink into my stomach. Bells began to ring in my head and my gut is convinced that something is wrong. It wasn't like Ron to mess with me like that. And even if he did decide to break the habit, he would have come back and done the, it's just a prank, bro, routine long before I started yelling. I sprung up from my bed, heart racing, blood pumping, adrenaline flowing.

I reach under my pillow and grasp the cold metal sheath of the M7 bayonet. Everyone made fun of me for sleeping with it, but look who's laughing now. I take the blade out and begin to move towards the door, cautiously calling out to Ron, one last time, just to make sure that my paranoia isn't getting the best of me. Alright, Ron, did you need something? Created with silence yet again. I take that as my cue to exit the room. I grasp the door knob and began to twist it ever so slowly.

My stomach twisting right alongside it. With a distinct click, the door unlatches and I began to tenderly open it. As soon as there is enough room, I peer my head out into the hallway. Nothing. I finally step out, as my body crosses threshold of the room to the hallway and my adrenaline spikes. Knife in hand, I make my way to the living room with a simultaneous sense of cautiousness and urgency.

I make the 15-foot journey to the living room and do a scan of the area. Nothing. Upon seeing the empty, quiet living room, my body immediately relaxes, my grip on the handle of my bayonet loosens, allowing my knuckles to go from ghostly white back to their normal pink, fleshy color. However, my moment of relief was short-lived as something dawned on me. The living room was empty, as end of void of human presence. I turned back to the hallway and sprint to Ron's door, unafraid to forego common courtesy,

and I barge right in. As the door swings open, I take my first step inside, and I once again met with the gut-wrenching feeling and a modest spike of adrenaline. Ron was dead asleep. With a mix of yelling and shaking, I finally wake him up, a very groggy and pissed Ron mumbles. What? Over my franticness.

Already knowing the answer, I ask one question out of denial and hope. Did you open my door a couple of minutes ago? No. What? As the sound of the most hated word and English language fell upon my ears, I was already halfway out of Ron's room. As I re-entered the living room, I gave things a second look. Upon further inspection, I noticed the absence of my Xbox. My roommates PS4,

and my roommates backpack, filled with expensive college textbooks, and his laptop. I sprint out the front door, and up the stairs to the outside of my complex, desperately trying to see someone carrying a backpack or game consoles. I run the perimeter and find nothing. Defeated I make my way back to the apartment, find Ron standing in the living room and he's still groggy and very much confused. I explain the situation we now find ourselves in. We called the cops, which took our statements in nothing more.

The interactions we had with the PD is another long story one filled with the worst instances of incompetence and stupidity that I've ever seen. But to sum it up, the person was never arrested. So unless it's to give me back my Xbox, Ron, his PS4, or my backpack, let's not meet again. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true Homer podcast this week you have heard. Creepyman tried to kill me and my friend by ready user anarchist, Sortfish.

To the cop who broke into my house at 2am, let's not meet. I keep forgetting your 14 by a step chin. And finally, door opened too slowly to be my roommate by ReadyEaser. Ha, Conway Titty. All of the stories you heard this week, were narrated and produced with the permission of the respective authors. Let's were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors.

Let's not meet is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online, and if you'd like to hear your story on the show, email me at Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. If you want to gain access, to all the bonus material, as usual, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. Thank you so much for all of your support and I really do hope you have enjoyed the show so far. I'll see you next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment Your wine?

Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this one.

I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash HyperGig for details. AT&T Fiber presents a straightforward moment. Your wine?

Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine.

I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Giga Gillionaire with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas, visit AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details.