Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 5x01: Camper in the Shade - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: November 9, 2020

Stories in this episode: - The Camper In The Shade - botanicallyaberry. - You Probably Shouldn’t Laugh At Your Robber - Unlucky_Avocado_101. - Lets Not Meet Saved Me From A Predator - Chickpea_2020. - Do You Need Help, Sir? - Anonymous - Internet Friend Obsessed With Me For 3 Years - Ihatebadmovies.  - Almost Kidnapped Or Worse -  Haley Blair.  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.  Get 3 weeks of EveryPlate meals for only $2.99 per meal by going to EveryPlate.com and entering promo code meet3. 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  - Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/pizzatate  Send your stories to [e-mail] to hear them on the show. 

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 five episode one of Let's Not Meet a true Mara podcast. Thank you. I don't know what compelled me to finally share this, but I've been thinking about it a lot in the past few days, and I thought that it would fit this sub relatively well.

I'm one of those long-time lurkers who's been sitting on their own stories for ages, but I finally got around to writing my own experience down. And I hope someone out there finds this interesting. Apologies in advance for the length. I have a lot of thoughts about this, as it was the first and only time I felt legitimately afraid for my life. When I was about eight years old, my parents were going through a divorce, and my older sister and I used to spend a lot of time at our grandparents' house.

It's a nice, long, ranch-style home on a corner in a very nice neighborhood that's a 10-minute walk from a gas station, grocery store, and a few fast-food restaurants. The streets are long and lined with well-manacured houses, cradled by big, scenic California valley hills all around. We were never really wealthy, but my grandpa bought a fixer-upper many years ago, and the property value was skyrocketed since then. As you can imagine, it's a very safe spot. And although there weren't many other kids in the neighborhood, it wasn't uncommon to see neighbors walking their dogs

or pushing a stroller down the sidewalk outside of our house. Although my mom was especially protective, all our lives, this particular neighborhood was densely populated, and my family knew just about everyone who lived there. She grew up in that neighborhood herself, so she was understandably trusting. She would once in a while let me and my sister walk to Rotten Robby, a gas station on the other end of the block to grab a snack. I would always get a ring pop in my sister who would grab a three musket tears before we made our way back home. My sister was about eleven at the time, and this small amount of freedom was a really big

deal to us. Nothing compared to walking down that street all by ourselves in the summertime, laughing and joking around. A couple of dollar bills in our pockets that felt like we own the world. The one oddity I never noticed around the neighborhood was a small camper parked on the side of the road opposite the gas station right along the back side of the fence of another house. right along the back side of the fence of another house. It sat there in the shade like a permanent fixture, all the windows constantly covered by opaque beige curtains.

I can't explain why, but it always gave me a deep sense of foreboding when I passed it. I was almost positive, someone was living inside of it, because at times I would hear air conditioning running as it sat stagnant I was almost positive, someone was living inside of it. Because at times, I would hear air conditioning running as it sat stagnant in the same spot. The hairs on the back of my neck would always stand on end, as I passed it, particularly as I passed the camper door. And I'd always tried to keep an eye on it, for the fear of one day, it's's swinging open just as I would be passing by. I think what bothered me the most was a drawing taped to the front door on the outside.

It was an extremely messy old sketch of odd lines and a brown-colored pencil that was frustratingly indesernable. I could see the outline of something, a vague shape, but I could never make out what it was intended to be. I never really had the nerve to stop and stare long enough to really investigate, but each time I walked by, I'd still a glance. investigate, but each time I walked by, I'd still a glance. A year prior to the incident, and I'm about to describe, I was walking with my mom past the camper in the shade. We had just gone to the park nearby, and unfortunately, had to pass the camper before we could cross the street to continue walking. I didn't want to seem afraid, so I kept just walking right behind her, and

didn't object when she walked past it. This time I felt a little more brave. I was frustrated not being able to decipher the drawing for so long, and while my mom was just feet away, I stopped in front of the camper door, and took a moment to really look at the drawing. Upon closer inspection, the paper was filthy. I remember doing a project in elementary school where we soaked printer paper in black coffee to make it look aged. And that's what it reminded me of. My mom walked on without noticing that I had stopped following her. But my eyes

stayed fixed on the indistinct mass of dirt-cake scribbles, until I could make out what looked to be a tiny, malformed face. My stomach turned. I immediately felt cold and disgusted as my eyes trailed over the rest of the image. I didn't know what kind of creature it was at the time, but now I can look back and say that it was just a badly deformed fetus inside of a mass of large, perfect circles, like those made by a circular ring ruler. Its face was contorted as if in pain. It was so graphically disturbing and seemed to portray this odd sense of suffering that stuck with me for days.

As a child, I didn't know how to process it, and the mental image still makes me sick to think about it. I'd never seen anything like it before. A adrenaline flooded my body, and my chest hurt with fear. But I selfishly thought of my glorious little trips for ring pops and said absolutely nothing as I followed behind my mom. This was, in retrospect, a classically terrible idea. It's one of those things you scream at main characters for in movies.

Ever since my ill-filling towards the camper had been elevated by the drawing on the door, I thought about it every time we drove by and about a month later, my mom once again graced us with several bucks and permission to walk down to Rotten Robby and grab our respective snacks. I thought about telling my sister about what I had seen on the way there, but she was older and braver, and I was terrified that she would make me cross the street with her to check it out. It was a bright sunny day, and I told myself with false certainty that nothing was going to happen. If I didn't acknowledge it, maybe it would go away. We walked past the camper,

and it was thankfully uneventful. On the walk back I was feeling more comfortable, and I was focused on fighting open my candy wrapper while my sister walked alongside me. We passed the camper a second time, but I didn't give it half as much thought as the first time. I don't remember what we were talking about but I recall being interrupted mid-sentence as my sister softly yet firmly said, my name. There was an indistinct fear in her voice that immediately set me on edge, like a bucket of ice-water. All my senses heightened and I became aware of everything, including the sound of haphazard footsteps about ten feet behind us. It was accompanied by a heavy rustling sound, like a heavy backpack.

And nervously, I half turned my head to look back. A man with a long, unkempt beard, and wearing many layers of ragged clothing stood behind us, eyes unmistakably burning into our backs as he walked. His movements, they weren't normal. It was a drunken shuffle like each of his feet were unimaginably heavy, and needed to be moved one grand effort at a time. and needed to be moved, one grand effort at a time. His shoulders were skewed, head tilted downward, with a strange arch and his neck. I could hear his shoes scraping the gravel with every step, but rather than seemingly genuinely intoxicated, it was as if he was intentionally meandering in our direction like a zombie with the effort to

frighten us. Behind him I saw the camper door was wide open for the first time, and all the years we had spent living there, and I realized that this was the man who had been living inside. He's following us, I choked out. My eyes feeling with tears. My mind was spinning as I stared straight ahead again. The wide street inside walks abnormally empty all around. My sister grabbed my hand, she squeezed it hard enough to hurt without looking my way, speaking carefully under her breath. On the count of three, we raised home. She told me in a very serious tone of voice.

I couldn't reply through the growing lump in my throat, but every single cell in my body understood that we had to put some distance between us, and this man is quickly as possible. She began to count steadily while we walked faster, and the most terrifying part is that he started running before we even had a chance to. He must have heard her directions, to me, and tried to get a head start by sprinting in our direction before she got to three. But his footsteps were noisy, and we bolted like deer, the instant that we heard him behind us.

I'll never forget it, the chase felt exactly like you would imagine in your nightmares. The fear that your pursuer is inches away from grabbing your arm, or a fistful of hair. I pictured myself being dragged into the van with nobody around to see or hear me. We ran so fast we didn't even have the breath to scream. I peered back behind me. About ten seconds later and I saw him running in our direction with none of the impairment he showed with those zombie-like movements before. I think back on it now, and he had to have been deliberately pretending to be handicapped

to lower our guard so that we wouldn't start running. The thought is terrifying, but I can't rationalize it any other way. We made it to our grandparents' house, and without looking behind us, he ain't open the stubborn old door before slamming it closed and scrambling past their excited dogs to get as deep into the house as possible. I don't even think we locked it, as our main goal was getting within line of sight of any adults as quickly as possible. My mom was talking to my grandpa at the table and gave us an unused look when we bounded into the living room. Since we were kids, running around wasn't anything out of the ordinary,

and she didn't ask what happened as we collapsed onto the couch and tried to catch our breath. The inside of the house felt so safe and felt in such good spirits that I didn't even want to bring up what happened. It's like waking up from a nightmare you didn't want to talk about. I desperately wanted to go back to normalcy. I wanted to forget it entirely, to unwrap my candy and act like everything was completely normal for the sake of my own sanity. And that's exactly what I did. I asked my sister just a few years back if she remembered the incident. I'm 25 and she's 28 now. Her response was strange. She remembered immediately, without the need for me to provide any details. But she quickly waved it off and insisted he had to have been

a bored, homeless man looking to spook some kids, walking home with no real intent to harm anyone. I don't know. I'd like to believe it's some innocent misunderstanding, but like they always say about gut feelings, they're rarely wrong. I feel in my soul that he wanted to hurt me and my sister that day. I never told her or anyone about the strange drawing on the door, and I'm not sure if my sister saw the open door and connected him with the camper or not. It's one of my biggest regrets, as I would hate for any other

children to have been less fortunate, after innocently walking past that camper in the shade. I believe he may have chosen the spot between the park and the gas station deliberately due to the number of children walking around the area. I actually never saw the camper again after this. I'm not proud of how I handled this, though, and I would encourage anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation to contact authorities immediately for the safety of others around. I don't know if maybe this whole story comes off as melodramatic, but it was very, very real and very frightening

in a way that I can't forget. So possibly deranged camper guy by the gas station whatever your intent was, 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 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 training this measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. license plate or venn, answer a few questions and got a real offer in seconds. They picked up the car already? No, I parked around the corner.

But they are picking it up tomorrow and paying me right on the spot. Oh, no wonder you picked up the check. Yeah, about that. Don't forget to have these. Sell your car to Carvana. Visit Carvana.com or download the app to get a real offer in seconds. To give you a little background, I have a nervous tick, or I laugh, at the most awkward and inappropriate moments.

I've always said that I would probably laugh even if someone was causing me physical harm. Not to the actual story, my family and I owned a small business, and a not-so-great part of town. One day I was just eating my sandwich and watching the young and the restless as I did every day with the coworker. Also, we were the only two there at the time. I looked up and saw a figure peering through our display window. But I just assumed that they were checking out some of the awesome display that my mom put in there because sometimes people only came to see what creative displays she had come up with that season.

They suddenly opened the door and shut it. And I thought, hmm, that's odd. So I stand up to see what's going on. That's when I see a tall figure with a full face bandana mask on, with only the eyes and mouth cut out. He comes through the door and demands us to give him the money. Naturally, I freak out, but I've always been told to just give them what they want and don't protest to it, which is what I had planned on doing. The next thing I know,

my coworker stands up and says, run as she's running towards the back. So I just thought, um, okay, and I ran too. I went through the back door assuming that she was right behind me, and I get all the way to the back of the driveway. And I turn around to see that she's not even there. I start to panic. Where is she? I'm just standing there like a dumbass, because I honestly don't even know what to do at this point.

And I'm still trying to process what the hell just happened. I start walking down to the bank on the road beside us to tell them to call the cops since I left my phone inside. Then I hear a deep voiced man say, take me to the money in a hateful tone. I turn around and there is the man turn around and there is the man pointing a gun at me. So I say, okay, freaking out obviously and go with him. And then I start laughing, like some kind of crazy person. And he gets agitated. He then yells at me to walk faster with the gun pointed at my back. And I tell him, I'm so sorry, which why the hell should I be sorry? So I give him the whole $50 that we had in the register and he takes

me to the back and tells me to stand there. He tells me to count to 20. So I do that. Then yell for my coworker, trying to figure out where the hell she went. No worries, though. She was safe, hiding in the bathroom. The cops never found out who did it, but they didn't actually seem concerned since he only got $50. Never mind the fact that someone had to go through a traumatic experience. As a side note, I had posted on Facebook that, quote, I would probably say,

I'm sorry to someone even if they were trying to rob me. Just two days before this happened. Luckily, this was a while ago and I have less anxiety about it than I used to, although all of these people wearing these pandanum masks due to COVID do put me on edge lately. So to the robber who held a gun to me for 50 bucks, let's not meet again. To put this into context, I'm an 18-year-old girl living in New Zealand. I suffer from anxiety and shut down in stressful situations and I become rather overwhelmed

when I'm not sure how to deal with something. The story happened yesterday, whilst I was waiting at my bus station to catch the bus home. I had a long day at work in my legs where I'm in pain and all I wanted to do was get home to watch some YouTube and bed. It was getting dark, and the sun was almost completely down. As I was listening to some music and a rather deserted area of the bus station, a man considerably larger than myself, sauntered up and sat down directly next to me on the bench, which I didn't think much of at the time. To put this into perspective, I'm roughly

55 kilograms. He must have been at least a hundred and could have easily overpowered me. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that this man was staring at me and began to feel a bit uncomfortable, but pegged it to him just looking at my mask. It's rather nondescript and it's just black. I ignored this and acted busy on my phone to avoid talking. I had a long day at work. The man began to talk and I pulled out my air pod to listen to what he was saying to me. The air pod fell and landed onto the ground, to which he picked it up for me and held onto

it and stared at it for a few which he picked it up for me and held onto it, and stared at it for a few seconds before handing it back to me. I was already getting bad vibes from this man. The conversation went something like this. Your eyes are beautiful. Did you get them from your mom or your dad? My mom, I guess. I kept my replies short to try and signify that I wasn't in the mood for talking, but he continued. What bus are you catching? Where do you live?" he asked.

I laughed nervously and told him that I didn't feel very comfortable sharing where I lived, but I told him it was farther up north. He then asked, why? It's not like I'm going to rape you. Isn't it really fancy up there? He asked. This is where I began to feel seriously uncomfortable and I began to shake. He asked if I had a boyfriend, to which I said yes, and he proceeded to ask if I planned to marry him, to which I laughed and said yes. Oh, it sounds like you're just rooting him. Are you sure you want to marry him? I was shocked, and I looked at him before telling him, again, yes, I do plan to marry my partner.

How old are you?" he asked. I don't know what came over me, but I told him I was 21 to try and make it come across that I was old enough to stand up for myself. Are you on the pill? I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable sharing that, and I don't see why you need to to stand up for myself. Are you on the pill? I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable sharing that, and I don't see why you need to know that, I responded. Ah, so you use condoms instead? He asked.

I wanted to walk away, but I was grounded to the bench, and I couldn't move a muscle, even if I tried. I was uncomfortable and confused as to why he was asking me these questions. Do you have someone waiting for you at the bus stop or are you walking home? How far do you have from the bus stop?" That was the question that made everything click into place and I realized this guy has malicious intent. He's not just being friendly. This guy is going to follow me home and either rape me or kidnap me. I began panicking and started deliberately looking for onlookers. A young man, possibly my age, walked out of a public bathroom and had overheard this conversation and was looking at the predator rather skeptically.

I knew then I'd at least have someone to help if I could just ask for it. But I didn't. By this point, I recalled a video from online that I had seen about a highly pregnant woman and her daughter being followed to their car in an empty car park in the dark by an older man. This lady was stressfully trying to find her keys in her purse as this man was standing beside her daughters on the opposite side of the car, making small talk with them. He got impatient and had walked away before she found her keys. Someone commented on her situation saying this was a popular thing, and that he was waiting for her to unlock the car so he could get in and control her via threats to the children.

It occurred to me that I should skip the bus and catch another one at a later time. I did this exactly. He kept trying to ask where I lived and I continued to refuse to tell him. He also continued to ask how far I lived from the stop and if my partner was waiting for me. I deflected all of his questions and after 40 minutes, he began to get grumpy. And he walked away from the station. He wasn't there

to catch a bus at all, but to pray on young women at the bus stop. I caught my bus about 10 minutes after he left, and I ran home where I completely broke down and cried in the arms of my partner. This morning, I was so stressed, I contemplated taking a day off of work and staying in bed for the rest of the day. I was petrified. Well, I didn't. I'm at work, posting this now. After that I definitely decided that perhaps, let's not meet.

So this happened about nine years ago when I was 17. I was a wild girl and was often getting into trouble with my two friends Amy and Jackie. This one particular night, I was dropping them off after, staying out late, doing our usual shenanigans. It was about 3 a.m., and they lived less than a mile from my house in a safe neighborhood. First, I dropped Jackie off, and next, Amy. They live one street over from each other, off of a normally busy two-lane road, with the median separating the traffic. But this night, we were the only car on the road, that is, until I saw headlights coming

straight for us. I originally thought it was coming from the opposite side of traffic, but it wasn't. I started frantically honking my horn because they were picking up speed and getting closer. I got as far right as possible and put on the brakes, bracing myself for a possible collision. Once the car was directly to the left of us, they abrasively skidded to a halt. I could see the figure of an older man between the ages of 50 to 60 with grey hair and glasses. I thought maybe he was having a medical emergency. I rolled down my window and started yelling, sir, are you all right?

Do you need medical attention? And this guy was staring straight ahead with his hands on ten and two, not moving a muscle. So I repeated, sir, are you okay? Can you hear me? Do you need me to call 911? Miss Guy, ever so slowly turned his head to face us. I repeated the question for a third time, feeling uneasy now, but still concerned. He still hasn an uttered a word when he slowly gets out of his car and just stands there in the middle of the road, staring at Amy and I. Slowly a smile starts blooming on his face and I realize it's time to get the

fuck out of here. I quickly put my car into gear and when I do, this man starts sprinting at us, directly towards us. Now we're both screaming obscenities, and what the fucks to each other? I look at my rearview mirror and now this guy is standing in the middle of the road motionless. I decide to loop around to see if he's still there because I still have to drop Amy off. We loop around the same road maybe three minutes later and he's nowhere to be found. He and his car are gone, with the only proof of our encounter being the skid marks that he had left behind. Nine years later I still have no idea what happened. Did he need medical attention? Probably not because he stood up and chased us. Why didn't he

speak? Why was he driving on the wrong side of the road and why was he moving so slowly. So creepy ass dude who didn't speak, let's never meet again. When you download the Kroger app, you have easy access to savings every day. Shop weekly sales and get personalized coupons to get the most value out of every trip every time, whether you shop in-store or online. Download the Croger app now to save big. Croger, fresh for everyone, must have a digital account to redeem offers. Restrictions may apply, see site for details. Save big on your favorites with the Buy,iver more, save a dollar each sale. Simply buy

Fiver more participating items and save a dollar each with your card. Kroger, fresh for everyone. Hey, it's Jesse Kelly. Ronald Reagan famously once said, the nine most terrifying words in the English language are, I'm from the government and I'm here to help. Americans are losing faith in the banking system and at the same time the US government could soon be headed toward a centralized banking system. How scary is that? How do you protect yourself as the government gets more involved in your life?

For me, owning gold is one way. Having gold that I can see and touch makes me feel protected. Having a portion of your retirement in precious metals is another way to feel protected. I don't own crypto, I don't own NFTs, and I don't buy meme stocks, I don't invest in things I don't understand. If you are like me and want to feel safe, it's time to call my friends at the Oxford Gold Group. Go to www.oxfordgoldgroup.com to learn more. Again, that's www.oxfordgoldgroup.com. When I was in eighth to tenth grade, I was extremely involved in this small building server.

The average age was probably 15 to 17, and I joined the group of builders and skyped with them every weekend for hours. We all became very close, very fast, and trusted each other, enough that we would follow each other on Instagram. I became particularly close with one of the builders and my friend group named Peter. Peter was in the same grade as me, and we ended up texting quite a lot. I heard rumors that Peter might have a crush on me. He denied them, though. I found this laughable, because it was the internet, and I just brushed it off.

Everything was fine for a while until something began to feel off when I talked to him. I was starting to constantly catch him telling small lies. This bothered me, so I figured that it was time to distance myself from Peter, and I stopped talking to him, cut to a few months later, and no contact. And Peter out of the blue texts me that he's going to be possibly transferring to my high school so that he can get in-state tuition for college. Peter's plan is to somehow live completely alone and support himself while in high school.

My stomach drops when I read the text, and I know this feels very off. I try to become and tell him that this is plain crazy. I tell him that it's oddly convenient that he chose my random suburb. Peter insists that his plan will work and that it's just a coincidence that he is going to my high school. I'm trying to call Peter's bluff and hoping that it's just a coincidence that he is going to my high school. I'm trying to call Peter's bluff and hoping that he's just screwing with me because I cut him off. Peter says he bought the plane tickets already, and he's going to stay in my town and going

to visit some high school in the area. Fear washes over me, and I realize Peter definitely has some unhealthy attachment to me. Peter was not bluffing. To my honor, he posts a picture on Snapchat at the airport. Peter asks to meet up while he's there, and I of course decline. Later, I see on his Snapchat a story that he's taking a tour of my high school. Peter's taking lots of videos and pictures, probably, hoping that I can see. Luckily, I'm stuck at home with pneumonia.

I spend the next few days on edge and afraid that he was going to ring my doorbell at any moment. Luckily, he was not smart enough to find out where I live, and he flies home and doesn't follow his, quote, plan. The baffling part was that none of my old group of friends on the Minecraft server thought that he was doing anything creepy. I felt like I was going crazy for thinking that this was weird. I thought my rejection for this meetup and continuing with no contact would be the end of it, but about two years later, I'm

at my dream college. I stupidly still followed Peter on social media because I wanted some warning if he were to come to my area. Once again, Peter did. I see him posing in front of the library at my college with the caption saying, transferring here is definitely the move. Cut to a few minutes later, Peter finds out I have a boyfriend and he directly contacts me for the first time in two years. He begins to ask strange questions. Will he protect you? I shouldn't have answered, but for some reason I did and I finally blocked him

and stopped following him on social media out of fear. He has not tried to contact me since. I definitely made some mistakes because I was young and scared, and had others telling me that it was no big deal, but Peter, let's not meet. The final story in this week's episode of Let's Not Meet has been replaced by the recording of a story that can be heard only on one of the previous Patreon episodes. I learned after releasing this week's episode that the author of the omitted story used language in terms that I was unfamiliar with. Words that could be offensive to some. And while I could have just omitted the parts and question and left the story to remain, it just didn't set right with me to leave it in the episode as a permanent reminder of my lack of unfamiliarity with the language that was used. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to reach me by email at Let's Not Meet Podcast at gmail.com. Here at Let's Not Meet,

I take these stories seriously and I handle them with care. I'd like to thank the considerate and understanding listener that reached out to me today and moving forward, I will be taking extra care to thoroughly examine all submissions to avoid another event like this. That being said, please enjoy the rest of the show. I've suppressed this story for so many years, not even realizing that I hadn't told this to some of the most important people in my life when I had mentioned that I was thinking about writing in. Hearing so many stories of people's bravery and heart pounding situations really inspired me and actually made me feel compelled to put my experience out there. This event took place when I was

about 11 or 12, so around 2002 or 2003. I'm 29 now. I grew up in a suburb outside of Los Angeles in a small town where you'd run into the same people every time you'd go to the grocery store. The crime rate was and still is extremely low. There's often multiple years in a row without any murders. Parents and expecting parents move there for the school districts. I was and still am, blonde hair, blue eyed, and at that age I was a little taller than most of the guys in my grade and had an overactive metabolism. Oh, to be young again.

I've always been an overly cautious person, even at a young age. I'd memorize license plates, survey rooms that I'd walk into, and this probably stemmed from a video that my parents made my brother and I watch when we were young about kidnappers and the dangers of talking to strangers. Boy did that video forever have an implant in my brain. Who would have thought I'd actually encounter a situation similar to what was on that video, though? One stereotypical Southern California sunny day, I thought that I would take our English

springer spaniel for a walk. This is a medium-sized breed for those of you that don't know. I also think it's worth mentioning while I thought I was aware at all times of my surroundings. I also for some reason thought I was invincible because I had my dog with me. My 11-year-old self was so wrong. This took place on a weekend because I remember everyone being home. That included my mom, my dad, and my brother who was probably playing guitar hero. I let my parents know Roxy, our dog, and I would be back in about 30 minutes and that I

was going to take my usual route. So I leased her up and off we went out the front door. My parents' house had two ways of entry. One is their sliding door, which we would take into the kitchen, and this sliding door faced the driveway, which pulling into actually looked down a level from the street. Think of instead of pulling up a dryway you pulled down into the driveway. The other way is the front door which was used quite a bit less. Upon exiting the front door which I chose to take for some reason were about five to six long wide steps about four feet apart from the next, all ascending towards the

sidewalk which was next to the street. So out the front door I went up the stairs and to the sidewalk headed for a nice calm walk with aroxy, or so I thought. I was only about five minutes into my walk across the street and was on a long path that was behind my middle school with residential houses on the other side, with the same street still in between. Then what seemed like out of nowhere, a lady pulled up to me and slammed on her brakes, taken a back guy, start taking mental notes of her. She looked like a modern day witch with curly black hair and a mole on her face.

She was in an old 80s dark grey Honda with a thin red line across the middle of it. She had her window rolled down and she quickly yelled at me. Get in the fucking car, as I'm staring at her, probably looking like a deer caught in the headlights. She's waving her hands all around and pointing them at me. And then pointing in her car like she's signaling me to get in. And then I see what I assume by my better judgment in this quick moment, all of this is happening, is a man hunched over in the back on the floor of the car

trying to hide himself. But I can see part of his head sticking up in the short, curly, dark hair. I'm taking all these mental notes as I always do and actually have to put them to use now. As soon as the driver sees my eyes glance back there and notice him, she now gets extremely angry. I can see it in her face. Her eyes turn black like they're fully dilated

and she starts yelling at me in Spanish, which I don't understand. Still strongly using her hand signals to get me into the car. And then I just sternly yell, no. And I turn around and I run so fucking fast, you would have thought Roxie and I were a pair of gazelles. I turn back and look after we start running to make sure that no one was getting out of the car, but she instead reversed so fast and skirted

the car around that it made a mark that would be left on the street for months to come. She was following me home, speeding up her old car as Roxie and I were running as fast as we could. I knew she would know where I lived, but I had nowhere else to go at that point, and cell phones weren't given to eleven year olds back then. I got back to my house so fast, and I ran down those long steps towards the front door, only needing one foot on each long step, as I could feel the impact of the ground slam up through my shins, and then I locked the

door behind me, thanking myself that I had left it unlocked, so it was easy and quick to get back in. My adrenaline has never been higher. I could hardly spit a word out to my parents. My throat was dry from the sprint, and I could feel my heart pulsating in it. Barely getting out the words, we looked out the front from the kitchen window, and that bitch had the nerve to park in front of the neighbor's house. What was she waiting for? Me to come out? Because that sure as hell was not going to happen. Were they trying to come in and get me but saw my parents looking out as well. Needless to say, we called the police, but she took off before they arrived. And in all my mental note-taking, I wasn't able to get a view of the license plate.

In this whole experience, I was so shocked at the time thinking, why would someone kidnap me while walking my dog? I have my dog with me and I'm really tall. Why on earth would she be trying to take me of all people? I guess that means absolutely nothing to a person with evil motives. I was very naive then, but since and today, even, but since and today, it makes me wonder about the what-f's. Like, did they just want a child to raise on their own? Did they want to murder me? Or what I think is even worse, sell me to be in a child sex ring?

The police officer that came and took the report was very pleasant, a woman, and very empathetic. She said they'd do everything that they could to find them. I'm not sure if they ever did, but a few years later, I was walking to the AMPM to get Slurpees and nachos with a friend. Cell phone on me this time. And as we walked by a house on our way, I saw a dark old grey Honda with the red stripe across, and my stomach rose to my throat. It could have been pure coincidence, but my gut told me otherwise.

Psycho-ass lady and hunched man in the back that didn't do a great job of concealing himself. I hope you got caught before any child was put in danger. And because my flight has now changed to fight, you better pray that we don't meet again. 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.

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Limited availability in select areas, visit at ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet. This week you have heard, The Camper in the Shade, by Botanically A. Berry. You probably shouldn't laugh at your robber by unlucky avocado 101. Let's Not Meet saved me from a predator by chickpea 2020. Do you need help sir by a listener who has to remain anonymous?

Internet friend obsesses with me for three years by I Hate Bad Movies. And finally, I was almost kidnapped or worst by Haley Blair. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet is not associated with Reddit or any other message towards online. If you'd like to hear your story on the show, email me at Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Let's Not Meet is brought to you by our patrons, as well as the sponsors.

When you support them, you support the show. So don't forget to use those promo codes or those links in the show notes. I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. Stay safe. 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 G gigillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. This wine, I'll fetch you a better one.

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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.

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