Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 5x02: The Woman In The Alley - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: November 16, 2020

Stories in this Episode: -High Hospital Guy/Hatchback Vehicle Guy - Listener Dannie_Quinn04. -Untitled - Listener Alex. -A Woman in the Alley - Author asked to remain anonymous. -They know where I live - charl_mcalister. -Untitled - Author asked to remain anonymous. -Ex Boss - Listener Brigid. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To hear your story on the show, send it to [e-mail]. Right now Embr Wave is offering our listeners $50 off when you go to http://embrwave.com/meet. Become a member today by going to http://feals.com/meet to get 50% off your first order of CBD with free shipping. Follow Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast.  - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast 

That was a great dinner. So great. Wait, where'd you park the car? Oh, the one I just sold to Carvana. What? When did you do that? When you were still looking at the menu, I went on Carvana.com and all I had to do was under license plate or vign, 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 worry, I'm going to have these. Sell your car to Carvana. Visit Carvana.com or download the app to get a real offer in second.

This podcast contains adult content and language. The stories in the shore frightening and can be disturbing for some. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. Now, enjoy the show.

My name is Andrew Tade and this is season five episode two of Let's Not Meet a true horror podcast. This This is a horror story that I will never, ever forget. Especially since it was my first encounter with a situation that was truly terrifying. Just to give you a little background information, I am 16 years old, with two older sisters, both of which have young children between the ages of one and two. One of my sisters, who I'll call Katie, lives in North Carolina with her husband and her son. They recently found out that they are expecting another child, so they decided to get a new vehicle.

Katie's old car is only a few years old and isn't working condition, so she decides to sell it to my other sister, what call her Lisa. She's driving her two-year-old around and a small Chevy coupe that has a poor air conditioner, not necessarily ideal for a toddler. So because Lisa wanted to bring her new car home for Christmas, I got to tag along with her and my niece to visit Katie in North Carolina. At the end of the trip, we would all drive back, and it would be smooth sailing, right? I wish that I had known how wrong I was. On the morning of our drive home, we ate a good breakfast, and we left early so that we

could arrive at our hotel in Alabama at a decent time. Alabama would be the halfway point of our trip back to Texas. The hotel that we booked is pretty nice and is in a fairly decent area. I would know because earlier this year I made a similar trip from Texas to North Carolina with my mom and we stayed at this exact hotel. Now, once we got near the hotel, my sister and I decided to pick up some chick-fil-a, because we were pretty hungry from our 10-hour drive, so was my niece. We got our food, and headed back to the hotel.

There's a light in front of the hotel, and my sister and I have to wait right against the median since we are turning left into the parking lot. As we are coming to a stop, we notice there's a man standing there on the median. We take a look at him, exchange a glance with each other, and then immediately lock the doors. Even if he didn't look the way he did, we still would have locked the doors because of our cautious state of mind. This guy gave me the heebie-jeebies.

He looked like he had just gotten out of the hospital or something, his eyes. They were bloodshot. He had a scraggly beard, and he looked extremely thin underneath his knucklepucks sweatshirt and his pajama pants. My sister and I avoided all eye contact, and we just pretended to be on our phones as he was clearly asking for money. Now my sister and I aren't snobs or anything, it's just that we're struggling financially ourselves and didn't necessarily have any money to spare.

Not only that, but this man made us really uncomfortable. There was no way we were going to roll down our windows for him. I looked up for a split second, and I'm pretty sure our eyes meet, but I honestly can't be too sure because I was very shaken up after what happened. This high-looking guy and his knucklepuck shirt continues to walk past my sister's driver's-side window and stops at my niece's window. That's a cute baby you've got, he yells through the window as he stares at my niece. In that moment alone, I knew that this guy could be up to no good. He takes slow, drunken steps backwards and looks directly at my sister.

I'll rape you, and maybe I'll cut off your face too." He starts throwing his arms around like a maniac, and he continues to yell and scream. I don't know if he was going to try and break my sister's window or what, but I am so thankful that the light turned green at that moment. We turned into the parking lot of the hotel, and there are tears running down Lisa's face, as her hands are shaking, reaching for the phone to call my mom and tell her that we are not staying at this hotel. Not when a man who threatened to rape her is right outside. Despite our exhaustion, we continue to drive the full 22 hours that it takes to get back

home. Throughout the whole trip, we hype ourselves up on coffee, blast our favorite music, and have some of our sister talks. But that man never leaves the back of our minds. By the time we get to Louisiana, we're running low on gas and my niece needs a diaper change. So we pull off the highway and stop in the parking lot of an empty, well lit gas station. Now when I say empty, I mean that the convenience store was closed and there's not a single car in the parking lot.

But at this point, we're ready to switch drivers and get this over with. So I get out of the driver's seat and stand outside of the car while my sister pumps the gas. I become very awake when a white hatchback SUV pulls right next to our car and the man gets out. Not to pump gas, but to open the back of his SUV which is completely and entirely empty. My sister notices and quickly pays for the gas and wakes up my sleeping niece to change her. Lisa repeatedly tells me to get into the car as she watches this man with wary, fearful eyes.

I simply refuse. There is no way that I will get into the car when my sister is still out herself in the most vulnerable state the two of us could be in. I would not let this man do anything to my sister. Eventually, the man goes to the front of his car and my sister is done changing my knees as diaper, so that's when I get into the car myself. And after we are all in the safety of the car, we lock the doors and drive away from that damn man and the gas station. For the rest of the night, we're just filled with this paranoia and won't even stop to

use a restroom. I have no idea what the intentions of them had with the hatchback was, but I don't even want to know. So to the high looking hospital guy and the creepy hatchback was, but I don't even want to know. So to the high looking hospital guy and the creepy hatchback guy in the middle of the deserted gas station, 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.

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Visit AT&T.com slash Hypergig for details. This took place in 2016. I work for the USPS Delivering Mail in the Midwest. I've been at this job for about five years now, and I can honestly say, I've met and encountered some very unique individuals, to say the least. I will preface this with a quick description of myself because I feel like it's relevant to the story itself and how I don't exactly look like your typical mailman. I'm a mail around 6'195 pounds covered in tattoos with long blonde hair and gauges.

Although people have said that I don't look very approachable, I am very friendly and kind to anyone that I encounter especially while working. Now, back to the actual event. I had recently started a new route, and since I was so low on the totem pole, seniority wise, this route wasn't exactly in the nicest of neighborhoods. Towards the end of the day, I would finish my route down a long stretch of roads with a lot of decrepit houses that were either vacant or barely livable, at least in my opinion. I only had a few deliveries remaining. My last package was for Mr. Smith and was what looked to be a medication from the VA hospital. Myself being a fellow vet thought, well, at least I know he and I will get along nicely.

Mr. Smith's trailer was located down a small, narrow, dirt path that also had three or four other trailers around it. As I said, this was my first day on this route, so finding the actual trailer belonging to him was going to take a moment, seeing that they weren't labeled with any actual numbers. Most of the trailers had garbage and random objects laying around everywhere, as well as the windows being smashed with graffiti on them, so I assumed they weren't occupied. There was only one that stuck out and looked half way livable, so I guessed it had to be

this one, and I jumped out of my truck, headed up the stairs and gently knocked on that door. My heard footsteps approached the door, right before it yanked open to reveal a very large man, at least six foot seven, and easily pushing three hundred plus pounds. He bellowed out a booming, yeah? I quickly stammered out, hello sir, I have a package that needs a signature for Mr. Smith. He replied. Oh, yeah? That's my father. But I can sign it for him.

No problem. It's a frequent thing for family to sign for family, so I handed him the slip of paper. He fumbled with it, trying to find a surface to ride on. And it was then that I smelled the booze and quickly realized this guy was absolutely shit-faced. It took him way longer than it should have, to scribble a name onto the slip, and he finally handed it back to me as a name onto the slip, and he finally handed it back to me, as I handed him the small parcel. I immediately dropped in, all right, have a good evening, man, as I was about to leap off that porch and head back to the office

to call it a day and have a few drinks, myself, when I got home after this long week. Just as I was getting off the porch, he yells out, Hey, is that a Michael, the arc angel and Lucifer tattooed on your arm? That turned around and replied, Yeah, it is. And I politely chuckled, out loud. He said, ''I have a painting in the garage of them that looks exactly like that.'' I thought to myself, ''Cool, man.

That's pretty random.'' I told him, ''Wow, that's crazy, man. Cool.'' I just returned to walking back to my truck to head out, but as I did so, he yelled out again. Wanna see it? Internally to myself, I thought, not really. I really don't care, to be honest, but I quickly mumbled out. Sorry, I need to be getting back to the office, unfortunately. But before I could even get into my truck and leave, he had darted over to the garage and insisted.

Come on, it'll only take a second. Without actually saying it, he held out his arm and gave the, after you,you motion to an out open garage. Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself stepping inside, cursing myself for being a people pleaser, and having a hard time saying no or being rude to people. Although it was around 5pm in the middle of summer, with the sun still out shining brightly, the garage was pitch black, and I noticed the two small windows in it were covered with newspaper.

A weird sketchy situation was now getting even sketchier. He closed the door, and I was plunged into complete darkness. I muttered. Uh, kind of dark here. He followed back, chuckling. Yeah, give me a second. I'll get the light. A few moments pass and I hear a soft click as he pulls the string on a tiny light bulb which barely illuminated anything. It was enough to notice that the floor was completely covered in empty liquor and beer bottles. There were also tons of trash and, of course, rusty tools, strewn about. He moved past me and walked to what appeared to be the back room of the garage and stood at the threshold.

It's back here. Come take a look." He said with a sheepish grin on his face. I had thinking I need to get the fuck out of here, this dude is going to kill me for sure. And by now alarm bells were shrieking and red flags were shooting up even higher than before. I've listened to enough Let's Not Need and Let's Read Stories over the years to know better than to walk back there. I've been in quite a few sketchy situations over the years with a tour in Afghanistan and plenty of other instances, but I'm no Billy badass by any means.

However, I'm comfortable and confident enough to know that I can hold my own when I need to, but I was pretty fucking scared. Something about this man was off. His mannerisms, his presence itself, just creeped me the fuck out. And now I need an excuse to get the hell out of here. So I finally took a hold of the wheel and put my politeness and kindness in the back seat. If I knew I pressed on the enter button of my scanner

that was located on my hip, it would beep loudly, seeing as it hadn't actually scanned a barcode. It took my right hand and pressed the button and the loud beep emitted through the air. And I put on the best acting scene of my life and pretended that I had gotten a message from my boss saying that he needed me back at the office as soon as possible. "'Shit,' I said loudly. My boss needs me back ASAP for something.

Sorry, man. Another time for sure. I said this as I backpedal down and lightly jogged back to my truck. As I stole a final glance at him before leaving, the grin was replaced with a stern, pissed-off grimace. When I returned to the office, I relayed the story to my supervisor. He agreed it was creepy and weird. It couldn't comprehend why I had even entered that garage. He then also told me, if I was uncomfortable making future deliveries, I could notate the

packages, and Mr. Smith would have to come to the post office itself to pick up the packages. I felt bad that I would be forcing an older fellow vet to go out of his way regularly, but I wasn't wanting to encounter his son again if I didn't have to. So from there on out, that's exactly what I did. Maybe he did have that painting back there, maybe he didn't. Either way, I don't really give a shit. So to the drunken ed camper look alike, let's not meet again. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're wine? Thanks.

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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 Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber, limited availability in select areas, visit atat.com slash Hypergate for details. I used to live in Philadelphia, just south of Kensington. If you know Philly at all, you know that Kensington

is a shady place. It's the Walmart of heroin. In order to get my new job, I would take a city bus in the morning, up Kensington Avenue, where there were always people shooting up on the sidewalks and playing view, bent at their wastes, and swaying on the street corners or sleeping against buildings or on stoops. These sites always made me sad, and a bit on edge. Two weeks passed like this, me taking the bus to work every morning without incident. Obviously that didn't last, or I wouldn't have this story to tell you. That morning I took the bus as usual. My stop was on Kensington Avenue and my office was two blocks down a connecting street.

I crossed Kensington Avenue and started up the first two blocks. As I naturally am an observant and nervous person, I always keep track of what's going on around me. So I always glance down in the alley in the middle of the first block, just to be aware of anything that might be going on in there. This morning was the first time that I actually saw something. I wasn't sure exactly what I saw, but after taking a couple steps beyond the mouth of the alley, I stopped. Was that a person laying on the ground?

As I mentioned earlier, it's not unusual to see people laying on the ground in this neighborhood, but this one just seemed off. I did a quick 360 scan of the street. There were no other people walking around, so I stepped backwards once, twice, and then looked into the alley again. There was definitely someone laying on the ground, and the side of them made the hair on the back of my neck stand. A shiver ran through me, and I could feel my adrenaline rise. I needed to do something. I couldn't just walk away, so I called 911.

When an operator answered, I told them where I was and what I thought I saw, a person laying in the alley, in a way that didn't suggest they were simply sleeping off a high. Are they breathing? She asked me. I stumbled on my words. Uh, I don't know. They're in the alley, and I'm on the street. Well can you go into the alley and check?

My heart shot up into my throat, but I felt like I needed to see this through since I was the one who called. Okay, as long as you stay on the phone with me, you'll stay on the phone, right? Yes, but we need to know if they're breathing. I quickly glance around the street and find it still empty so I approach the alley. I'm crouching a bit, stepping quietly.

Eyes darting around the alley as I slowly walk towards the person on the ground. Hello? Ma'am? the ground. Hello, ma'am? No answer. Hello, are you okay? I'm getting closer now, and the scene suddenly clicks into place. There's blood everywhere. A large swipe of it,

and several large splatters on the fence to my right, blood on the woman's fingers, blood in her hair and on her face. There's blood everywhere. Oh, my God, holy shit! Can you speak? Can you hear me? Oh, my God! She's breathing, I think, but barely.

Please send help. Please help her. I'm here to help you. I didn't even recognize my own voice. I'm unable to describe her face because it's completely destroyed and thickly caked with blood. I can only tell that she's black maybe around my age missing one shoe and that she seems cold. Pressing her palms together between her thighs. I think she's been laying there all night. Then a loud noise rips through me,

kicking my fight-or-flight instincts into, so I'd run out of the alley. I don't remember what I heard, and I don't remember hearing the dispatcher talk to me anymore. The police finally arrived a few minutes later. I flagged them down and directed them into the alley, and I stood guard at the mouth, so no one could crowd around or disturb them. A neighbor came out of his house and asked me if someone needed Narcan, and I greatly told him that I didn't think that would help.

More police and EMS workers arrived, relieving me of my post at the mouth of the alley, thanking me for calling because not many people in this area would bother. And I probably saved her life. I gave an officer my contact information and watched as they rolled the woman out on the gurney and into an ambulance. Can I do anything else to help? I asked.

When a couple of officers answered and the negative, I walked the remaining block into half to work, to hug the office cat. I was in shock for several days. The next morning, I had to give a statement to the detective. He showed me photos of the scene and asked me to describe where the woman had been and what else I had seen or noticed. When I was done, he told me that he would call me if I was needed in court, but that woman was comatose, so they probably

wouldn't die, but also wouldn't be able to remember what happened. I went back to work. Today, I have PTSD which is triggered by sudden loud noises. Everything from cabinet doors slamming closed to the sound of someone quietly saying my name when I don't expect it. To the person who beat that woman to death and got away with it, let's not meet. One night I was in bed with my boyfriend. It was about 1.30 a.m.

I get a text from a random number saying, is this, and they say my name? Sorry for messaging late and out of the blue like this, but I don't think my boyfriend's name is being honest with me and I need to talk to you. We exchange a few texts and basically they're accusing my boyfriend of cheating on both of us. Obviously annoyed, but bear in mind it was June 2020, bang in the middle of coronavirus lockdown in the UK.

20, bang in the middle of coronavirus lockdown in the UK. We spent every day together since March. He denied it all and insisted he didn't know who this person was. The same number starts texting him, angry texts, calling him a lying rat, etc. Not looking good for the boyfriend. But, this is where it gets weird. This person gives no specifics. They won't tell me their name. What my boyfriend has done, only that he was a liar

and that I was an idiot for believing him. They would just reply with vague angry texts. The grammar and spelling were good, but they would use slang words from our local area. We assumed maybe it was just some kids who found our numbers on Facebook, and we're having a laugh, so we try to ignore it. Then nothing. Until my boyfriend gets a text the following afternoon asking him to meet them at a local social club for some company.

Me and a friend got straight into the car and went down there. No one was there and the club was closed because of COVID. But we couldn't help but feel like we were being watched. It was really weird. The next few days go by and the same number starts texting again. This time the text language is all weird. There were spelling mistakes, and they were saying things like, why you too, instead of you too.

That kind of thing. It felt like it was a different person texting me. They seem a lot angrier with me now, because I didn't believe them straight away. Then they text me. They seem a lot angrier with me now because I didn't believe them straight away. Then they text me, you're so dull. I see him leaving your house earlier, LMAO. Cawkey, I said something along the lines of, funny, where's my house then? And they reply with my fucking street name. They also knew things about us like the fact that he was in the army. But I guess you can figure that out from his social media photos. I called them loads, but it would just ring twice and then get cut off. I tried searching the number on WhatsApp and a few social media sites and nothing.

Only on Instagram, the number would come up with a location of a film company in the Netherlands. When I googled the number, its provider is Tizmi. I've never heard of it, but it looks like it might just be a fake number. They've never asked for any money or anything like that. I don't get why someone would go through that much effort, just to wind us up. The last text that I had was, okay, you will eventually see me. LMAO. Creepy. Any advice? Please?

A couple of years ago, I flew home to visit my family. I'd been out there for about a week, then we headed to the coast for another week. Then back home for another. I totally needed a break. I had just ended an on-again, off-again relationship, like seriously one day on the next day off. It took seven months of putting up with it because you're supposed to fight for what is important to you, right? Anyway, I finally just said that it was done. No more chances.

No trying to work it out. Just done. So with that chapter of my life being over, I was more than happy to be somewhere else, surrounded by family, and began putting myself back together. I got there, spent a couple of days sleeping a lot. My mother is a nurse, and she was becoming concerned that there was something physically wrong with me. I honestly just needed a couple of days in a safe place where I could let my brain work on digesting the new life that I would have when I got

back home. Before we left for the coast, I met up with a friend from grade school that I had kept in contact with over the years. I thought that it would just be he and I, but it didn't really phase me that another person was there. We just hung out for a while and then I needed to head back home because I had to take a backwards, rural route to get home, or take another route that would add another 20 miles to my trek. Being backwards, I needed to be able to keep an eye out for deer. So I said goodbye and told him that if he was ever in my neck of the woods to look me up,

then we could grab a drink and hang out. I told him to grab my number from my friend, and out the door I went, about halfway home. I got this weird, queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I slowed way down, and sure enough there was a deer in the middle of the road. Because I had slowed down, I could see another car out on the road. I couldn't shake this queasy feeling, so I figured it would be better to cut off and go

down the main road because there were more places to stop. I seriously didn't want to stop in some rural farmers driveway. I've watched too many movies to make that mistake. So I get over to the main road and pull into a gas station. I sit there for a couple of minutes trying not to get sick to my stomach. I ran into the store, grabbed some water and ginger ale, and came back out to my vehicle. Still unable to shake that queasy feeling. So I started to head home from the gas station

and knew that I didn't want to go straight home. So I drove around taking this road or that road until that weird feeling started to go away. Then I went home. I read for a bit and went to sleep. Next day, everything was fine, and we headed off to the coast. Fast forward two weeks, the trip is over. I'm still feeling a bit fragile over the breakup, but that's all. I figured I would begin the process of cleansing the environment of negative energies and then work through the baggage that came from the breakup. I knew there was a lot, and it would take some time. So the next day, I'm going about my business and everything as cool as can be

when picking through the junk left behind after the breakup. I'm really just doing mindless things to zone out and not have to think way too much on the activity since my brain was working full-time already. A little bit later that day, my phone rings. I don't get a lot of calls, so I assumed that there might be a family emergency, and that I needed to answer at ASAP. The area code of the caller, who is not in my contacts, is the same as my cousin, so I answered without a second thought. On the other end was the acquaintance I had met at my friend's house.

SA will call him. It's a little weird having him calling me, but I'm not thinking that anything is terribly out of the ordinary? I asked him, what's up? And he said that he was at the airport. I still find it a little odd, but I say, oh, that's cool. Where are you going? He said he's already landed. Again, I'm distracted. And I really just wanted to get him off the phone so that I could get

back to my mental sidestep and zone out while my brain chugged away. So I said that I hoped that he had a good time wherever he was. He said that he needed me to pick him up. What? Did you just say you needed me to pick you up? Yeah, he replied. I came to visit you. Pause there for a second. I know for a fact that I didn't show any more interest in him than general courtesy. Even the over-the-shoulder look me up, comment, was one of those polite things to say, just because you never actually plan on seeing them again.

Okay, unpause. Why did you come to visit me? I asked. He said he felt a deep connection and wanted to be with me. I'm starting to get angry, as well as freaked out at this stage. I told him I didn't feel a connection at all and couldn't believe that he would fly

across the country to see someone that he spent maybe two hours with. He said that I invited him. I said, uh, no. I was just being polite. It was a polite thing to say to some random person that has made a very small impression on me. He said that he needed to find a way back home, then since I misled him. Misled him.

What the fuck? Look me up if you're ever in the neck of the woods, had led him to think that that was a basis for any sort of encounter that was meaningful. He said that he needed a place to stay until he could get the money for a plane ticket back. I said there were more than enough hotels that he could stay at while he got himself sorted out. He said he didn't have any money after buying the random one-way plane ticket. So at this stage, I'm flapper-gasted, angry, and freaked out that someone would do that

on a one-way ticket. I finally caved and said that he could stay the night while he sorted shit out, but I expected him gone no later than in the morning, the day after tomorrow. So I bring him back to my place, throw some pillows in a blanket on the couch, and turn my head to my bedroom when he asks if he can sleep with me. No. Actually, no fucking way is that going to happen. I then point out that I have fire arms and do not attempt to come in. The next day I have to work so I woke him up and told him he needed to get up and find

a way home immediately. I told him that I had work, but would check in on his progress because the next morning, I was dropping him off at departures regardless of whether he had a way back or not. I went to work, and he blew up my phone all day. Wanted me to come back to the place for lunch. I told him no, I'm way too busy. I finally get home from work, and I'm chuckling at a text that I got about my dog. That's when I noticed that he had rearranged everything, and by everything I mean every

room in the house had been rearranged. I flipped my lid and asked him why he thought it was normal to do what he did. Instead of answering, he asked me who I had been talking to. I said that it really wasn't any of his business, but I had received a text from a guy watching my dog while I was on vacation. Colour me shocked when he says that he doesn't want me to talk to that guy. No longer freaked out. Full force, apocalyptic disaster is about to be unleashed and leave nothing but a smoking crater. Temperature drops about 10 degrees, and I very calmly said to get his shit, and that I was calling a cab to take him to the airport because he's fucking psycho.

Side note, full rage has been achieved when it feels like the temperature drops, and I speak very calmly. If I'm complaining about something, it's a quick burn. If I go monotone, calm, and tilt my head to one side slightly, this is where I hit Arctic level, anger. So he, unaware of the environmental change that had occurred and that the chances of survival are dropping by the second decides to tell me that he used my computer

and got my ex's phone number. And they both agree that I'm heartless. We are fast approaching the epic scale disaster. And he finally seems to notice how deep into rage I had sunk. I told him that it was unlikely that he would get into my computer because the password was a full quote from the art of war. I told him he had three minutes to get his stuff and get out, or I wouldn't be responsible for what would occur. So, still yelling insults at me, he gathers his stuff and leaves. I used to get calls and texts from him, I'd block one and six more would pop up.

But eventually it stopped. To this day I have no idea, nor interest in knowing where he's at, or if he made it back. It's a crazy dude who would hop on a plane with a one-way ticket based on a random polite comment. Let's not meet again. I started working for a couple and their separate businesses around 2007. I was in college and they were very accepting of my crazy school schedule and had told me that they would definitely work with me.

They also gave me a raise from my previous job, which helped seal the deal for me being a poor college student and all. Now I should tell you, I am one of those seized the good and everyone kind of people. My partner and brother both told me that they had an unsettling feeling about me going to work for them. I dismissed their worries as I felt that I knew them well enough. Fast forward to the end of 2008, I had been working for them for some time and things had gotten messy. I worked in the office with two other employees, and we all felt the tension every day. I somehow got to be the lucky one to hear all of the drama. The couple was constantly arguing, and they both brought up divorce multiple times. I got to hear it

from both sides. The husband would come in and tell me that he was filing for the divorce while the wife would come in crying telling me that she wanted to work things out. This went on for some time. My partner didn't feel particularly comfortable with the husband. They just got a bad vibe from him. They specifically didn't like that I had to work out of the couple's home often. The husband was kind of a creep, like the kind of guy who tries to flirt with you, but it comes off all wrong. I always brushed him off and chalked it up to their marital issues, and I didn't play into it.

Well, it came to a head in early 2009. I had had enough. I was tired of hearing all of the drama. I was just done. I put in my notice, and as unprofessional as it was, I asked that my resignation be immediate. I left the job and immediately felt relief. Fast forward a few months, and the wife is now calling me. Now, I hadn't spoke to or seen her since I left. She asks me if I've seen the news, and I say say no, I hadn't.

She said, okay, good. I feel like I should tell you. You're going to see a new story about him. Her husband or my ex-boss, go look him up and you'll see the story. I'm sorry. She was crying and sounded very sad and apologetic. I was nervous but decided to look him up. He had been arrested. The FBI was involved. Apparently, he had kidnapped a girl, molested her, and tied her up, and kept her with him until he dropped her off, across

state lines a couple of days later. It had happened right before I went to work for them. The girl survived, but I'm sure, has deeper wounds. I was in tears. I survived an attack when I was younger and had vowed that I would do my best to protect myself. I had completely ignored my partner and brothers' worries. I had worked for this man for two years, had been in their home alone. I thank God every day. You never tried anything. He's in prison now, right where he should be. But you want to know what unsettles me? His wife knew about it. She knew about it for two years and stayed married to him. So to my former employers, let's not meet again. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast this week you have heard. High Hospital Guy and Hatchback Vehicle Guy by Listener, Danny Quinn 04.

A Story by by listener Alex. The woman in the alley by a listener who asked to remain anonymous. They know where I live by Charles McAllister, a story by an author who asked to remain anonymous. And finally, ex-boss. A Let's Not Meet Again story by listener Bridget. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and Ex Boss. A Let's Not Meet Again Story by Listener Bridgid. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. If you want to hear your story on the show, again, send that in to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.

Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. You'll notice I added that disclaimer to the beginning of the episode because I think a lot of listeners tune out as soon as the stories are over, which I can understand in some cases, but if you are one that wants to submit a story, you know, the ends of these episodes have important information for you. The hard-working mods over at the subreddit for Let's Not Meet, they can't help you with getting your story on the show. So please do not contact them about the podcast.

You can contact me directly at Let's Not Meet Podcast at gmail.com for any questions and again for stories. That's Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. I read all of the submissions and I will get back to you if your story is a good fit for the show. If you want to support the show, you can head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet podcast. I'd like to thank all the patrons for supporting me here on the show as well as the sponsors. When you support them, you support the podcast.

I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. Music You