Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 4x20: Kitten Man - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: October 12, 2020

Stories in this episode: No More Night Drives - AscensionM23. Why I hate frosted glass doors. - AscensionM23. Disturbed Elderly Landlord - MordenCrane. Kitten man - Bmoss28. To try Shudder free for 30 days, go to shudder.com and use promo code meet.  Join the live season finale on halloween at 7:00 PM PST at twitch.tv/letsnotmeetstreams  Follow Let's Not Meet: - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Merch - https://letsnotmeetmerch.com - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast 

Wake up your taste buds with Java Jolt, the newest pint-sized flavor from Bluebell. This delicious coffee ice cream blends dark chocolate flavored chunks and a coffee-fudge swirl. It's the Jolt you need to make it through your day. So skip the coffee and grab a pint of Bluebell Java Jolt. Look for Bluebell ice cream at your favorite grocer if you can't find it, ask for it. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 4 episode 20 of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. Two years ago, when my autistic daughter had trouble sleeping at night, I would toss her

and her car seat and drive her around. It was one of the only ways that she fell asleep soundly. At the time I lived with my parents in a nice neighborhood. So one night I'm driving, and my girl had finally fallen asleep. It's about 9 p.m. at this point. I'm so hungry, and I want to let her fall asleep into a deeper sleep so I can move her. I get some food from a drive-through, and pull over to the side of the street right next to the restaurant so I can eat. I'm finishing eating, and I look back to check on the kid. And suddenly, these very bright headlights pull up behind me, a little too close. I wave apologetically.

None of my windows are tinted, and I used to drive a jeep compass so the back window was big enough for them to see me. I assumed that whoever it was was just trying to park at the house that I'm currently in front of. So I pull away and start down the street. And once I'm at the end of the block and around the corner, I see the headlights again. No biggie. This is a semi-busy side of the street, so people cut down this way all the time.

Only this person is writing my ass like I'm not moving fast enough and I get annoyed and change lanes to get out of their way. Almost as soon as I do, they follow. At this point I realize that the car is the same sedan that pulled up behind me on the last street. But now they're too close for me to even see the make of the car and the high beams are on so that I can't see anything behind me. I curse myself for not paying better attention to the car before. I didn't want to be crazy paranoid, so I took a few unnecessary side streets and passed my neighborhood only for this person to be behind me, turned for turn, and lane change for lane change. So I panicked. I called my dad. I know I should have called the police, but I was 21 and I just

did the first thing I could think of. He was at work 30 minutes away. He has terrible reception and decides to call me back on the landline at his work, and he's on his cell phone with the sheriff's department for our neighborhood, and they tell me to drive to the station. It's been close to 40 minutes since the person had started following me, and kept riding closer and closer. I'm running lights and swerving around at this point, just trying to catch someone's attention. So I drive to the station, and no one is there. Not one car, no cruiser, no one in the department office, not even any cars in the small parking

lot. And they want me to pull into the lot and wait for an officer. I'm alone. My one-year-old is now fussing in the back seat, and there is only one way in or out of the parking lot. So I decide to pass the station and tell my dad to tell the officer on the phone to fuck off because no one was there. I see a sheriff's car at the light ahead and decide

to start honking and flashing my lights as he drives across the intersection that I'm driving to. And he either misses what I'm doing or ignores it. It's now been a little over an hour and the person is now tapped my bumper four times. Eventually, I saw another sheriff's car, and I just laid on my horn, and I think he caught on because he busted a U and came back towards us. As he did, the car behind me disappeared into the mall across the street, and the officer followed. I was instructed to go back to the station and wait. So I did. And eventually, I was waiting so long that I went inside,

triple locking the doors of my car because I was terrified. There was no one at the office, just a no emergency phone on the desk, and that only connected me to another extension. To wrap the story up, they made me feel crazy, and said that they never found the car. That all they could do was take a statement since technically nothing happened, then offered to follow me in my daughter's home, only to drive away as soon as I parked, while I left to take my sleeping kid inside shaking

so hard that I couldn't even unlock the door. I run upstairs to my mom's room. She was on pain medication after a surgical procedure, so she was asleep. I shake her awake sobbing and tell her what happened. It took me two days to sleep again at night. And to this day, I still refuse to do night drives with my daughter. So weird, stalker, follower, person, let's not meet. When I was about 16, 9 years ago now, my family was living in a suburban area outside of LA.

It was a nice neighborhood. Kids rode their bikes in a group, parents waved to each other, and helped keep an eye on people's houses. You could join a barbecue if you walked by at the right time. Well, my dad was working nights at the hospital in the city, and that left myself a female at sixteen years old, my mom, 36, my sister, 12, and my brother, eight, home at night from 6.30 p.m. to 7.30 a.m. the next day. One night, we're cooking, listening to music, and just all around having a good night, and everyone's in bed by nine.

I woke up to the sound of the front door being rattled, and my mom, calling from my dad like he's home. Our house is laid out like this. There's a front door in a small entryway area, and the right side wall, facing the door from the outside, was my brother's room. Myself and my sister were on the other side of him, and the doorway led into our dining room. My mom's room was off from the living room towards the back of the house, so they typically turned the lights on to come by our rooms. It wasn't that uncommon for my dad to get let off a shift a few hours early and end up home before seven. My front door was frosted glass. The middle of it was clear enough to see whoever was at the door. The door was old and just a little off,

so typically you had to put a little force into opening the door, even if it's unlocked. This part of the story my mom filled in. She had gotten up also hearing the door and thought that my dad was home as I did. However, upon calling out from my dad to confirm, and turning on the light switch, whoever it was at the door froze,

and noticeably jumped. She had still been walking closer to the door to open it up to help him. Still half asleep, when she realized the man in the doorway was as tall as my dad, but had a full head of hair. Also, his outline didn't match the familiar outline of my dad coming home in scrubs. This man was wider than my dad, and once he could see my mom in the doorway, he started not only turning the knob, but throwing himself against the frosted

glass. I don't know what kept me from rolling over and going back to bed, but in the next few seconds I heard my mom scream. I sat up in time to hear her footsteps and see her as she disappeared into her bedroom, to come back out with the revolver that my dad had bought her for her birthday. At this point, I had rolled over and checked my cell phone quickly to see that it was 130 in the morning. I dialed 911 while my mom was pointing a gun at whoever was at the door, trying to

force their way inside. Stop or I'll shoot. I'm on the phone with the police, and they're on their way. I will use force if you enter my home." My mom was screaming it at the huge man at the door, who, after hearing her for the second or third time, finally stepped back from the door, and was just staring at our shapes from the other side of the frosted glass. After a few moments, though, he seemed to like his chances because he stepped forward again and only ran

once my mom pulled the pen back and repeated what she had been saying, adding that she might decide not to even wait for him to be inside. He ran off, as I mentioned, and I stayed on the phone with 911 as my mom stood at the doorway. Her gun still, and both her hands, aimed at the door. The way my dad had taught her to hold it just the weekend before when we'd all gone to the range. It was only a moment after the man had fled that two uniformed officers filled the doorway that the man had just been in. And when they knocked, I realized after

she didn't respond to them, identifying themselves, how terrified my mom was. Her voice shook as she told the officers that she had a weapon, but that she wanted to hear their badge numbers before she would open the door so that she could confirm with the dispatch. Once they did, she opened the revolver and unloaded it, putting it on the table and crying as I opened the door for the police. It took our statements, had several patrol cars outlooking, and found him a few hours later, six blocks from our home.

However, he had made it into the residence that he was trying to break into, and they caught him in the middle of robbing, the retired couple that he had knocked unconscious. So, home invader, let's not meet. You know it, your wife knows it, your friends know it. Yep, there's no getting away from the fact that there's an outdoor kitchen shaped hole in your life. And it's time to put things right. Thankfully, bull outdoor products are ready with everything you need to create a world-class outdoor cooking space.

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AT&T.com slash HyperGate for details. I grew up in Texas. I still live here, along with my family, that will be mentioned in the story. When the 2007 recession hit, my father lost his job. It was a management job that paid well. We lived in a comfortable but slightly country area outside of Lockhart, Texas. With our income at a halt, we lost our home and had to move. My parents found a trailer park with a tube bedroom for rent, a little cramped for our family

of five but we had no other choice. The man we rented from was crooked for other reasons, but he's not the disturbed landlord that this story revolves around. We lived in that trailer for a few years before needing to move out for reasons I was too young to remember. I was 11 years old when my parents began house hunting again. Down the road from the trailer park was a cold sack of land. There was a business in the center of this land called the Why Not Party House.

That was a bar or want to be club, I suppose. Considering that I was a child, I never entered the building. There were a few houses and trailers scattered around different parts of this secluded circle. A worn-looking trailer was for rent. The man renting it, Mr. Dawl, was an elderly man who couldn't have been younger than 65 or so. A few things to note about this trailer. It had old stone steps leading up to the front door. There was a bunk bed in one of the bedrooms, and a somewhat functioning air hockey table. The master bedroom had a queen-sized bed, and there was carpet in the kitchen, which

I always found strange. The back door was nailed shut and completely unusable. If that wasn't enough to make you say nope, then let me also say it had a mice problem. My family is working class, my mother is disabled, and with my father out of work, we only relied on her disability checks. We had no choice but to rent out this trailer or be homeless. The entire deal was strange, and I was honestly sad that this was the position we were in, but my parents rented out this trailer on the agreement of words only. There was no official lease that was signed or any sort of legal document that proved

that we were renting from this man. Before we moved into the trailer, Mr. Dawl took it upon himself to build a deck for us to replace the old steps. He even built a little picnic table for us to sit outside. As a child, it completely blew my mind that the stranger could be so kind to craft these things, without being asked or wanting money. It seemed like an act of pure kindness, a bad person wouldn't do that sort of thing, right? The first few weeks of renting from him went by without a hitch. The master bedroom had no light bulbs, and we weren't even there long enough to change

them, so my family and I all slept in the living room. Something about the bedroom with the bunk bed seemed scary to me. I'm not sure how my brothers felt about it, but they never slept in there either. My mother's check hit the first of every month, which is also the day for bills. Her and my father and my older brother got into the car and drove to the city to take care of the bills and get a money order for rent. I was left with my oldest brother. It was a time when we had no internet or cable,

just VHS movies. I was in the hallway. Come to find out the trailer was flipped, and the front door was the one nailed shut. I was playing my Wii, Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess, to be exact. Something I need, you all to note, we had no keys to this trailer. The only person with the set of keys was Mr. Daw, so we were unable to ever lock the trailer when we left. As I was playing my game right in front of the door that was locked, I saw the knob turn, no knocking. The knob jiggled, and our landlord tried to pry the door open

twice, but was unable to do so successfully. I just froze and realized that it was him, and he must have assumed no one was home because the car was gone, but the door was locked, and I thought that it was fine to continue playing my game. My 11-year-old brain, I guess. My brother was in the living room. We both heard the noise, though. At first I thought that it was a dog barking, and my brother heard it, too, but the longer we listened, we realized that this wasn't an animal we were hearing, but the sound

of people yelling. My brother went to the front door to investigate the noises, and me being a scared child I followed right behind him. Both of my parents were standing out in the yard. My mother was shouting on her landlord, who was sitting on a farming vehicle. Not sure what the name of it was, I remember it had a very long piece attached to it. She was visibly angry, and her voice was laced with rage. My father was yelling at him, too, but I don't remember anything that was

said exactly. My oldest brother asked what happened, and here's how it goes. My parents pulled up to our trailer with the money in order for rent. When they did, they caught Mr. Dahl backing up the farming vehicle against the door. The only exit in the trailer. My mother went into full protection mode, knowing her two children were stuck inside. She confronted him immediately. Luckily, he backed away from the door, but he was still operating the foreign vehicle. I believe she threatened him, and they exchanged words, and then he whipped the vehicle around fast and aggressively, close to my mother and almost hit her with it. My parents were bewildered about what they just witnessed. They didn't know what to do,

so they called the police. When the police showed up, and my parents explained the situation, it was no use because we had no legal agreement of renting out the trailer. The officers shrugged it off and said that there was nothing that they could do about anything because no one was injured. Apparently trapping two children inside a trailer that's a fire hazard isn't illegal. We spent only one night in that trailer. We no longer felt safe there. We packed up as many things in our cars we could, but unfortunately we didn't have the money

to rent a moving truck for the rest of the furniture. We stored the belongings that we took with us at my grandparents' house and we rented a motel room. It was about a week after this happened when we tried going back for the rest of our belongings. We wanted no confrontation with Mr. Doll, so we showed up at the trailer at night. It was dark inside. The porch light was off. My father and oldest brother went inside the trailer casually. Me, my mother, and my older brother were waiting outside in the car.

It was no less than five minutes when my father and oldest brother ran out of the trailer with speed I had never seen before. They hopped into the car and we pulled out of there like some scene in an action movie while my mom was terrified in demanding answers. Apparently, they went into the master bedroom first, which was an immediate right when you walked inside. They were going to grab a box of paperwork that we had left behind when we originally left. They noticed something lying in the bed, not just lying there asleep, but completely naked. It was Mr. Doll, and right beside him was a gun. We never went back to that trailer. We never recovered the rest of our furniture that had sentimental value. It's been almost

a decade since this happened. My mother and I discuss it every now and then, but were thankful that time is behind us. I can't help but wonder if all that abandoned furniture was the result of some other unfortunate family who had to leave everything behind. Or it had been taken from them forcefully. So some background for context. This was back in the 90s when our only option was a landline phone and dial-up internet. I was around 8 or 9 years old when my mom started leaving me at home with my oldest brother while she went to work. My brother was much older, around 17 at the time. As most teenage boys, his favorite thing to do was sleep really late during the

day and stay up all night playing games. I remember being bored playing with my barbies in the living room of the house with the blinds wide open to let some light in and save on electricity. I would sit there for hours and play. When my mom was gone, she always told us to answer the phone when it rang in case she was calling to check on us and make sure that we were okay. I remember one day specifically I answered the phone and I just kept hearing loud breathing on the other end. I kept saying hello, but no one would reply, so eventually I would just hang up. This went on daily for about two months, and it was always in the morning

time when my brother was asleep. Being a naive eight or nine year old, I didn't really think anything of it, and eventually the calls just stopped. A few months go by, and I'm sitting in the living room on the floor again when the phone rings. I hear the same breathing again and say, hello, who is this? To my surprise, a man replies and says, hello, kitten. Do you remember me? I remember being surprised that he called me kitten, but replying that he had the wrong number.

He then replies, No kitten, I have the right number. You're wearing a kitty shirt right now. I remember looking down and immediately panicking and hanging up the phone when I see the tabby kitten on my shirt. The phone then rings again and I refused to answer it. I run to wake up my brother and he sleepily follows me to the living room. The phone rings again and he answers it, but this time no one's there. He then unplugs the phone and tells me that it's just my imagination and to leave him

alone so that he can sleep. Being scared I decided to close the window and sit on the couch until my mom got home that afternoon. That night I told my mom what happened, but my brother told her I was making it up, and that he didn't see her hear anything. I think my mom believed me, but she just told me to hang up the phone if it wasn't her, and to never open the door for a stranger. I agreed and told her that I wouldn't. The next day, my mom was off work, and she took me to the store with her.

We were walking around when I noticed a man in a long trench coat. I thought that the coat was weird, but didn't really think anything else of it. We then ran into one of my mom's friends who had a daughter my age. My mom and her friend were chatting away, and my friend and I were standing a few feet from them, messing with some birthday cards. We went around to the other side of the cards to look, out of sight of our moms. Suddenly the man with the trench coat is right near us, looking at the cards too. He then picks up a card, and turns to me and my friend and says, Hello.

Being polite, we respond hello, then he starts picking up cards, and he's saying that he's getting his daughter something and asks what we like. My friend points to a random card and he smiles and says, that's nice. He then picks up another card and shows it to us. The card has kittens all over it. He looks directly at me and says, I'm sure you like kittens, don't you. I didn't really know how to respond. I remember feeling extremely nervous. He then smiled and saw me getting nervous.

He then said, kittens and barbies. This kicked my fighter flight into action at the young age of eight or nine. I nervously laughed and said that we had to go back to our moms now. The man then reaches out and grabs my arm. My friend takes off running around the corner to get my mom. The man tries to pull me to the front of the store, but I kick him as hard as I can and I go flying out of his grip. He then gets up and runs to the door about the time that my mom makes it over to me.

The police are called and a report is filed. To my knowledge, they never found the man but my mom was extremely paranoid after hearing the link between the phone calls and the incident. And she found a new house in the city, not even a month later. Thankfully, that was the last time I heard from him. So all I can really say is, Kittenman, let's not meet again. Mark your calendars. October 31st, this Halloween at 7pm Pacific Standard Time, I'm going to be live streaming the recording of the season 4 finale of Let's Not Meet.

You can head over to twitch.tv-let'sletsnotmeachtreams to check it out. I had a lot of fun when we did the season 3 finale just hanging out with all of you and being able to chat afterwards. It's going to be live so it's going to be run, unedited, there will be plenty of mistakes and I recommend signing up ahead of time so that you can log in for the chat and make fun of me afterwards for all of my little mess ups. Trust me, there will be plenty. After that, we're all gonna watch a horror movie together. It's gonna be a really fun night. Again, that's twitch.tv-forward-slash-let's-not-meat-streams, or you can follow the link in the show notes

for this or any of my other episodes. And if you're unable to catch it, the video will be up on my Twitch profile and the episode will be edited down and released as a regular episode that Sunday night per usual wrapped up in a nice little bow for everyone that just wants to hear the audio version without me messing up a million times and yelling and cursing at myself. No, I don't expect it to be that bad. I'll try to get a few extra practice runs in before the recording. But it's gonna be a lot of fun. Thanks so much for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet.

This week you have heard, No More Night Drives by ReadyUser AscensionM23 Why I Hate Rosted Glass Doors by ReadyUser AscensionM23 Disturbed Elderly Landlord By Reddit user, Morden Crane And finally, Kittenman By B-Moss28 All of the stories you've heard this week

were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's not meet as not associated with Reddit or any other message bars online. If you wanna hear your story on the show, email me at Let's not Meet Stories at gmail.com. And don't forget, if you want to get access to all the bonus material and support the show, as well as get exclusive merch head to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet Podcast.

I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're 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 Gigillionaire? Yeah, I have 18T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.

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