Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 5x08: The Bronco - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: December 28, 2020

Stories in this episode: - He Tapped On The Window - Megan. - A Scary Night In Seattle - Julia. - Untitled - Jenn Knapp. - Run Like Your Life Depends On It - Kaylee. - Come Alone and Don't Tell Anyone Where You're Going - Susan. - Bronco Man - Daphne. 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 submit your story to the show, send it to [e-mail]. Make the switch to PrettyLitter TODAY! Get 20% off your first order by visiting Prettylitter.com and use promo code MEET. You can start exploring Audible with a free 30-day trial now. Just go to Audible.com/meet. - Merch - https://teepublic.com/user/letsnotmeet  - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ 

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The stories in this show can be frightening and 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. Enjoy the show. A story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. My name is Andrew Tate, and this is season five episode eight

of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … I am a 25 year old woman and for reference, the neighborhood my boyfriend lived in wasn't the best. It was known for regular police lights, sirens, pedophiles living across the street, a gunshot in the middle of the afternoon, and a plethora of other nuicances. My boyfriend and I were coming home around 11.30 pm on a Saturday night. We had spent the evening shaperoning his sister's 13th birthday party.

I had a few alcoholic drinks throughout the evening. I just wanted to keep myself sane through the screaming teens, but I was by no means drunk, just a little buzzed. We pulled up to his house. I was carrying the leftover drunk, just a little buzzed. We pulled up to his house. I was carrying the leftover cake, pizza, cookies, and a bag of a few more of the treats, so he ran up to the house a few moments before me to unlock the door. He opened it up, went inside to let the dogs out, and I meandered behind him a few moments

later. Once inside, I sat everything down and locked the door handle. A natural instinct instilled in me since I was young. My boyfriend wasn't in sight, so I thought he was either in the backyard with the dogs or in the bathroom. I didn't think much of it. Our blinds are always pulled up just a bit when we're not home because our bigger dog destroys them if they're closed all the way down. From where I was standing and the living room I heard a commotion from the backyard, the dogs were barking at something, but there's always stray cats running around so it didn't come off as unusual to me. So there I was, just standing in the living room, maybe 10 minutes

after coming inside. I'm returning a text when I hear a familiar tap, tap, like a finger tapping on the window. I look around the house at first, thinking I'll see my boyfriend doing something that made that noise. And then I remember the blinds to the window are up about four or five inches. And stinktively I'd bend down to look out the sliver of a window into mostly darkness except for the burning embers of someone smoking. My boyfriend's room mate often leaves without his house keys. Sometimes they come home drunk.

And he smokes, so automatically I thought, he must need help with the door. Like, he had so many times before. And like that, I went to the front door and unlocked it. On the other side of the screen door, I peered out, and once my eyes got adjusted to the contrasting darkness from the ceiling light versus the moonlight, it hit me. The man standing in front of the house was not the roommate. It was this scrawny male with long hair and a stringy beard, and I think glasses, but it was dark, and it was hard to tell any further distinguishable features.

All I could think was, why the fuck did I open the door? I immediately spat, who the fuck are you?" And he replied, and this dry, almost whisper, "'Is your mom home?' As this was my boyfriend's house, where only he and his male housemate lived, I instantly got chills, but my spine. I realized he must have watched me come inside. Maybe he came up just in time so he never saw my boyfriend in the car or in the house, so he thought I was alone. Then I think about the tapping on the window. The dogs barking aggressively from the yard,

and how long I stood in front of that window, which translates to how long he was watching me. I just about yelled, nobody's fucking mom lives here. When my big dog came running up behind me, inside the house barking ferociously. Finally my boyfriend, who had been in the bathroom and just let the dogs in, tuned in that something was off. He came up behind me at the screen door, and as soon as the man noticed him, he said, I must have the wrong house.

My boyfriend followed with a quick and loud, yeah, you have the wrong house. Get the fuck off my yard. The man took a couple of steps back, but he turned his attention back to me. He just kind of lingered there. Not really walking away, and not getting closer just looking at me. Finally my boyfriend followed up with another, I said get out of here. And after he turned and walked down the driveway, my boyfriend grabbed the wooden stick that he kept behind the door and walked out into the driveway to watch and make sure that he was really gone. I frantically checked the locks on all the windows and the back door as

Disgusting and terrifying images of what his intentions were played in my head I know all of the things that I did wrong and I am usually hyper aware of my surroundings But I truly believed it was the roommate coming home without his keys which happened happened all too often. I know that there's an incredibly high chance that he thought I was much younger than I am since I do still look pretty young. Maybe he was watching and hoping that I was alone, that getting me to open the door and tell him I was by myself was all he needed to rush in that door and force his way in. And then do whatever he planned to do. I should have slammed the door.

I shouldn't have even opened it, but I froze. I'm just grateful I wasn't there alone in that my dog and my boyfriend were there to scare him off. Fortunately, that same week, we moved into a new home together. So creepy fucking asshole will never meet again. MyPlate.com's got something for everyone with over 500 Texas license plate designs to choose from. Like Roberta M. whose mom is a breast cancer survivor. My Pink Ribbon Plate shows my support for you, mom. Oh, honey.

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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 and select areas, visit atat.com slash Hypergig for details. I'm a 23 year old female from New Zealand, but this story took place when I was 21 and traveling America at the start of 2019.

I had flown over to Canada originally to meet my best friend who I'll call Ella, another 21 yearyear-old female. At the time, she was studying at McGill University. We stayed in Montreal for a few months before making our way down to America. We went from DC to New York to Boston, then across to California before traveling up to Portland and Seattle. The majority of our travels were spent staying at Airbnb's and with family. But upon arriving in Portland, we decided to try couch surfing.

At first we were nervous, as we had been warned about the dangers of couch surfing, especially so far from home in a foreign country. But we made sure to read all of the reviews for the people we were thinking of staying with, and to play it as safe as possible. In Portland, we stayed with two wonderful guys who showed us around and made us feel very comfortable and relaxed about the experience. And we decided to try it couch surfing in Seattle as well. We found a man in his 40s who I'll call Ro with plenty of positive reviews who was living in an apartment in an area we were hoping to explore. At first we were a bit skeptical. As it appeared

he only accepted requests from woman travelers, something that felt a bit off, but as they were all excellent ratings, we felt comfortable enough to ask to stay. He eagerly accepted our request and gave us his address. Upon arriving in Seattle and alerting Roe of our impending arrival, he instructed us how to get to his apartment as he wouldn't be home from work until later that night. The first strange thing that occurred was that he told us not to tell anybody that we were staying with him, and if anybody at the apartment's asked, not to mention it either. He then asked for my Instagram and proceeded to comment uncomfortable things about my pictures.

Now while we were a little weirded out at first, it was late, and we didn't have anywhere else organized, and we thought we might as well just stick it out, as it was just two nights, and we wouldn't be there during the day. When we entered the apartment, we were delighted to see a dog bowl on the ground, along with an array of leashes, and we're looking forward to meeting this dog. Yet we hadn't been warned of a dog. Then there was no dog in sight. So we were a bit confused, but we decided maybe he had taken the dog to work. We ended up staying for a few hours just chatting and planning the next couple of days before retiring to the couch to sleep. Hours later, Iowa woke to the door opening. I pretended to be asleep as I was exhausted

and I just didn't want to wake up Ella by moving or making conversation with who I assumed was Row. Sure enough, there was the man from the couch surfing pictures across the room. As I watched Row, he approached us before, standing over us with a weird expression. He did this for several minutes, which somehow felt like an eternity before he disappeared into what I assumed was a bedroom. And the morning, we awoke, and Ro was gone.

There was still no sign of a dog, so we assumed maybe Ro had taken it to work again, or had taken it for an early walk, but we didn't think much of it. We headed out for the day and enjoyed ourselves in Seattle. When we arrived home, Roe was sitting at the table and we had a quick conversation. We asked him about the dog and he appeared confused and didn't know what we were talking about. Equally exclaimed that he didn't have a dog. I stared, confused, at the leashes, but I just thought, oh well, to each their own, and I just didn't ask any more questions. He quickly began leading the conversation in an uncomfortable direction which included

him asking if we had boyfriends and questioning us about our sex lives, with way too much interest. Unknown to him, we were single, but very much beating around the bush with our feeling towards each other. But that's a whole other story. We quickly lied and said that we had boyfriends and made sure to mention that they knew where we were staying. This seemed to annoy him as his expression changed. His eyes turned darker. He then boasted about how many women he had slipped with, and how some

of the girls from couch surfing had taken an interest in him and had told him all about their sex lives He even remarked that he'd never heard how sexual Kiwis could be and he would like if we explained We shut this conversation down quickly and almost went silent on him. I Think he could tell we were uncomfortable, and we're not wanting to carry on the conversation. So he quickly remarks that he has some errands to run before quickly leaving the apartment. Ella and I felt more uneasy now,

but realized it was getting dark, and we were unsure of what to do. We ended up deciding to stay as we would be leaving first thing in the morning and hopefully we would be able to leave all of this behind us. We got comfortable on the couch and an hour later so row burst in the door, holding a small fancy looking gift bag. He excitedly started pouring the contents out onto the table. And to our horror, we realized it was an array of sex toys and sex paraphernalia. Both shocked and uncomfortable. Ellen and I looked at one another before Rho started going on about how excited he was to

try these with someone. The next sequence of events, and my lack of appropriate reaction, I attributed to the shock that I was in. Ro quickly walked over to us, holding a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, and clicked them onto my wrists without permission. Ella watched as I went pale, confused by the whole situation, and feeling a sense of panic wash over me, I quickly demanded that he remove them to which he made a couple of creepy jokes, and pulled at them before doing so.

Now the smart thing here would have been to get the hell out of there, but we were rooted to the spot with a feeling of fight or flight washing over us. We had the realization that we had nowhere else to go this late at night. I wish I could say that we ran as fast as we could, but we both told Ro that we needed to get sleep and retreated to the lounge as quickly as possible, then crawled into the blankets. Being fiercely protective of Ella, I crept the knife out of this man's drawer, and laid with my body closest to the door with Ella hidden behind me, scared that if anything happened, I'd be the one to defend us.

I ended up staying the whole night watching that door, and luckily, Rowe didn't bother us at all. We high-tailed it out of there the next morning. We were terrified of what could have happened. We hastily reported Rowe to the couch surfing, detailing everything that took place, including how unsafe we felt and how we didn't want any other young girls to be in the same situation as us. Unfortunately, instead of protecting both our identity and the safety of future travelers, our report message was forwarded to row, who then proceeded to hurl abuse at us and accuse us of lying.

At this point, we were terrified of this man and quickly deleted our account and blocked him out of fear that he'd somehow find us. I still have a lot of guilt that nothing got done about him, and I mad at myself for not leaving after he first made us uncomfortable, but at the time it didn't seem as dangerous as it most likely was. I'm not sure what could have happened if we hadn't been so direct in letting him know people knew we were there. And I try not to think of it. Anyway, creepy man who made us feel unsafe in an otherwise beautiful state.

Hope we never meet again. It was late October, and I had arrived home after picking up my new puppy. My husband and I had decided to take our other dog along with us for the ride and to help her socialize with her new buddy. We rode together in my husband's car, leaving my car in the driveway. This is an important detail for later. My house is in rural Maine and is situated on seven acres of dense woods behind it. Because of this, we had decided not to put curtains on the kitchen windows as they looked out onto the beautiful trees and the hills behind the house.

It was very private, or so we thought. Upon entering my house, nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I went over to the kitchen sink and noticed that several little knick-knacks had been moved from the window sill above the sink and placed onto the counter. At first I thought that perhaps my husband had moved the items for some unknown reason, but then my eyes focused on several muddy shoe prints on the counter and on the floor, right where I was standing. That window was the only one unlocked, as I had recently opened the window to air out some of the smoke from the oven the day prior. We kept all the windows

indoors locked otherwise, but I had forgotten to lock that one. It became horrifyingly clear to me in that moment that someone had climbed through that window and into my house. Frightened, I had tried to get the attention of my husband, while also keeping in mind that the intruder might still be in the house. My husband decided to check all of the rooms in the house while I decided to take the dogs outside and call the police. I stood outside in the dark and the cold panicked that my husband was still in the house and

might end up face to face with the intruder. Finally, he came outside and said that there was no one in the house. The police arrived later and checked inside the house and around the perimeter, but found nothing aside from a stack of lawn chairs under the kitchen window, which the intruder had used to climb on to get inside. Nothing appeared to be stolen or moved. There was nothing they could do, but someone was definitely inside our house. Now, here's where things get creepy. Of course, I couldn't stop thinking about this all night. My mind kept going over the details repeatedly.

Someone had climbed through the kitchen window in broad daylight. Someone had done this with the car and the driveway, so either they knew we weren't home or they didn't care we were or worse wanted us to be home. Were they watching us? Waiting on the perfect opportunity to break in while we were both gone and our dog was not in the house. How long had they been watching and waiting for this rare opportunity? My husband kept trying to assure me that it was probably some neighbor

kid who climbed in based on a dare and that I had nothing to be worried about. After all, they didn't steal anything and they had plenty of items to choose from, laptop, television, video game consoles, medication in the bathroom. All the hot items of burglar might be interested in. And yet, the house appeared completely undisturbed aside from the muddy footprints on the kitchen counter. What did they want? Why hadn't they taken anything?

A couple of days later, I was in my yard and I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Upon inspection, I realized that it was a pair of my underwear, and one of my bras laying in the grass. I picked them up and I saw that they had both been ripped to shreds and tossed there, perhaps as the intruder ran off from the house that evening. It's been fourteen uneventful years since then, and I still live in that house, and I still have that puppy. She's not a puppy anymore, though. Anyways, sometimes when I gaze out that window into the vast dense woods behind the house,

I wonder, is someone looking back at me? So to the creepy muddy, footed underwear shredding intruder, let's not meet. 18T 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 ATT.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 Gigillionaire? 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 gigillionaire with AT&T fiber, limited availability and select areas.

Visit ATT.com slash Hypergig for details. I live in a coastal town in North Carolina, a port city. We have both beaches and a lot of other surrounding bodies of water. One being a river that flows along our downtown area. It's the kind of place that is a tourist destination in the summer. It's beautiful and has even been the location for a couple of hit TV shows. I had never not felt safe living there until this one frightful day.

never felt safe living there until this one frightful day. My family had all gathered for lunch at a restaurant by the river. My extended family was in town, aunts, uncles, cousins. If I remember correctly, we were celebrating Nana's birthday. As older people tend to do, they all sat around visiting and finishing up their cocktails. Me being 12 at the time and my cousin being 13 were getting quite bored and restless. We asked our parents if we could walk a little further down the street to this iconic little sweet shop to get chocolates and ice cream. Our parents agreed and we went on our way. to get chocolates and ice cream. Our parents agreed, and we went on our way. Of course, as young Adelaissants are known to do,

we did not come right back as instructed. The two of us girls decided instead to walk along the sidewalk, overlooking the river, eating our confections and chatting. We get a little further into downtown, nearing a hotel and a parking lot. My immediately start to feel uneasy when I notice that there are two men sitting on a bench, staring us down. I also quickly note with dread the crowds of people have thinned and hardly anyone else is around.

My cousin is completely oblivious to these two men's eyes, and that they're boring into us. She seems confused when I abruptly tell her we need to turn back. The men notice us swiftly changing directions and call out to us. Hey, hey, come over here. Come over here, we want to ask you something. Again, my cousin is not picking up on the complete fear in my eyes, nor the inappropriateness of this situation in Yelves back.

Hey, she laughs and keeps walking. I should pause here to explain these are men, older men. They look very rough around the edges, and the little dirty. I wonder for a moment if maybe they're homeless and calling out to us because they want to see if we might give them some money. They're also an odd pair. One of them is short, slightly pudgy. He's balding, pale, and wearing an outdated pair of glasses.

Overall, kind of creepy looking. And the other guy is tall, muscular. Not only was he intimidating and stature, but also in his piercing gaze. I yell at my cousin Jessica and say, this is not funny. Don't talk to them. We need to go right now, I'm scared. I'm practically trembling at this point in her defense. We are already heading back in the opposite direction of the men. At this point, I see them get up and start walking towards us, calling out to us. I can barely make out what they're saying anymore. But I know it's not right. Why are two older men pursuing two very young girls by themselves? I tell my cousin to run, and we both take off. When we see that they are now running to, she finally registers

the gravity of the situation that we're in. Pure fear turns to adrenaline and we sprint full speed along the sidewalk ahead of our pursuers. My brain is working over drive, trying to come up with a plan, trying to make sure that we know what to do if they catch up to us. They're gaining. I think back to everything I've been taught about stranger danger, to look for someone in uniform, a policeman, security guard, a fireman, anyone. I then look for a family, a group of adults that can help someone who can intervene. We finally get back to a decent crowd of people gathering. They are taking pictures with the waterfront as their backdrop. Another one of our tourist attractions.

The battleship docked in the background. I feel relieved as we're able to stop and catch our breath. I purposefully stand right next to a middle-aged couple in their kits. I'm thinking to myself, we made it. However, the men had the audacity to continue to approach us, even in this much more public visible area. The short guy did all the talking while the tall guy stood slightly behind him. I remember thinking in my head how they had cornered us.

Behind us was a fence line overlooking the river. No where to run behind us. To the left was the direction we had just ran from. There were less people where we had felt vulnerable, where they had been lurking, waiting. To the right were all the shops and storefronts. Of course, that's where the men were standing guard. I felt trapped. I tried to think fast, but I was panicking,

and I was shocked that they were still there. I quickly pulled out my chunky flip phone and called my mom. She didn't pick up, but I kept calling and calling, pretending to have her on the other line. The man starts talking to both of us, but mostly addresses my cousin since I'm acting like I'm on the phone. He keeps asking us why we ran from them. He said they just wanted to say hi and talk to us. He asked if we would come and talk with him. He keeps repeating himself. I ignore him even though he's right in front of me.

And I turned to Jessica. My dad is on his way to get us. He said to be ready, he's picking us up right here. Me and the creep both keep repeating ourselves at this point. In this tired loop, I continuously say that my dad is coming. All the while, he continues to press us about why we ran from them and why we won't just go talk with them. What feels like centuries later, my mom does pick up.

She hears the fear and anxiety in my voice and rushes to come get us. There's not a chance in hell we're walking the rest of the way back to the restaurant. Finally, the two men give up and walk away. After my mom picks us up, she drives around and asks us to point out the men to her. We don't see them anywhere in the small downtown area. We never reported them or gave a description to the police, and I still regret that 16 years later. Since we are a port city, this area is actually a sex trafficking hotspot at times. A shudder to think with those two men wanted to talk to me and my cousin about.

I think about how bold and undeterred they were. How they wanted to lure us away from people. Again, why the fuck would two men in their late 30s and 40s want to chase down a 12 and 13 year old girl? My only explanation is that they had varied our intentions. I love this show because it's probably relatable to so many people. We've all had a moment that's chilled us to the bone that made the hairs on the back of our neck raise up, our hearts beat faster, a pit to form

in our stomach and a heated flushed face. That's our body warning us of danger. It's our animal instinct protecting us from predators. Always trust your gut, especially when it comes to fear. It could save your life. To those two scary, sick, disturbed creeps that chased me down, let's not meet again. AT&T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment. You're one? 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 18T 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 AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details. AT&T Fiber presents a Straight Forward moment. Your wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber.

The Straight straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. 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 gigillionaire with AT&T fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash hypergig for details. It started out in 1983. I was 19 and in college. It started out in 1983. I was 19 and in college. One evening my friend and I went to the elephant bar for $2 long island ice tea night. We were out on the patio when a man who was in what appeared to be his mid fifties came up to me and asked me if I was a model. Me being young and dumb. I did not even think that this could be anything but legit.

Add in the fact that my mom had actually been a model before having me and having always hear how pretty she was, etc. from all that knew her, I'd be lying if I didn't crave some of that limelight myself. He proceeded to tell me he wanted to photograph me and went out to his car to bring in his portfolio. In it, there were many pictures of very young girls, basically preteens and provocative poses that looking back were inappropriate given their age. While I remember distinctly having a weird vibe, I just brushed it off. He told me how all of their moms had been okay with it and offered to take pictures of

me at no cost. I said I was interested and tore off a piece of napkin and wrote my number on it. Some time later, maybe a week, I'm now no longer under the influence of my multiple long island iced teas and he calls me. He says he wants me to come to his house the following Saturday. I got the address, and said that my friend and I would be there at the agreed upon time. While I was not the most savvy about this stuff, I was smart enough to know not to go alone. He then got agitated and told me empathetically, no, come alone and don't tell anyone where

you're going or give them my number. Immediately I knew I wouldn't go, but simply acted agreeable and hung up. I didn't go to his house, but I also didn't hear from him again. Fast forward about five years, I'm now 24, and back up in my old college town, Santa Barbara. I was visiting a friend who had settled up there. We were walking around downtown just talking when a man passed us and turned around, grabbing my arm and said,

It's you. I immediately recognized him, but I didn't let on, and I just said, I'm sorry, I think you've mistaken me for someone else. At which point he took out his wallet and pulled out the piece of napkin with my number on it from five years ago. I continued to tell him he had the wrong person, and we hurried off. To this day, I think about that man. I wonder who, if any, he lured to his home alone. And what he may have done to them. Makes me shudder. Had I gone my life as I know it may not have been. My three grown children might not be here.

So to the man who said, come alone and don't tell anyone where you're going, Let's not meet. The story begins in 1988. I was a senior in high school. I lived in a small, rural, one-stop-light midwestern town. It was the kind of place and time you could imagine or remember when you hear the song small town by John Mellon Camp. I generally felt comfortable traveling here and there in my Chevrolet Chevette, enjoying my emerging independence, driving myself wherever I needed to go, and spending my money earned from my part-time job after school.

I was looking forward to leaving my small town and going to college in a large city in the fall. I had hardly a care in the world and my future looked bright. One day after school, I traveled alone in my car to the neighboring larger town for a hair salon appointment. After this salon, I decided to stop in a local shoe store and I spent about half an hour

browsing. I don't remember anything too eventful happening. Just killing some time before I was expected back at home that evening. I remember getting into my car and driving the 15 miles back to my small town. The sun was just starting to disappear beyond the horizon. Once I left the limits of the larger town, I started passing through the rural stretch of highway towards my home. Even though I was on a state highway, there were expanses of bleak, open farm fields.

I had traveled the route hundreds, maybe thousands of times in my life, and I knew it like the back of my hand. So I was driving on an autopilot and listening to the radio. By the time it got dark outside, I started noticing a vehicle. It was close behind me. Their headlights were starting to annoy me in my rearview mirror. I adjusted the mirror and drove on, just ignoring it. Soon thereafter I noticed that the driver was flashing the headlights at me, turning them

on and off as to catch my attention, I suppose. I remember not feeling alarmed, but more surprised and curious. Still, I drove on and assumed that they would lay off after a while. Well, they didn't. The headlight flashing continued, more phonetically. I turned my radio down as I was starting to get very confused about this whole thing. Now I could hear the driver blaring his horn at me. I drove on.

I started to think it was probably one of my friends who recognized my car. Normally, I would be up for some tailgate socializing. But that night, I was tired and I wanted to get home. If one of my friends wanted to talk, they could follow me home. Or if they were messing with me and trying to scare me, they could follow me home and we'd have a laugh about it then. Remember, this was an age before cell phones. Halfway home, and the lights and the honking continued. With the vehicle close behind.

I was tiring of this. I thought of a place to pull over up ahead and get this unknown friend's prank over with. There was one of those little old-fashioned motor lodges, and it was just up the road on the right. I pulled into the parking lot, and the vehicle followed me in. I curved around to be perpendicular to it and stopped several yards away. I did not recognize it.

It was a black or dark-colored Bronco. None of my friends drove that, and no one I knew drove that. My peered through my window at the Bronco, under the dim lights of the motor lodge, studying it for about 15 seconds. I couldn't see the person inside, and no one emerged. My gut told me to drive on, so I pulled out of the parking lot and continued down the road. Now the presumption of it being a friend was mostly out of the question. I started to consider maybe there was something wrong with my car, but my trusty little

chavette was chugging along just as usual. Nothing sounded or felt out of place. Just a few more miles until I was home. The Bronco was persistent with the harassment still. I was starting to feel very weird about it. A little frightened, mostly confused and concerned, though. Surely there must be a good reason for all of this. Finally, I crossed the line into my dark and sleepy little town.

The Bronco continued to follow, but stopped their headlights and honking business within the town limits. My home was right there on Main Street, and I rolled to a stop in front. I knew better than to get out. I stayed in the car with the doors locked. To my mounting uneasiness, I see the bronco pull up slowly alongside me. The man sat there and he looked at me. I cracked my driver's side window about two inches as he rolled his passenger side window down.

A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and some facial scruff did not smile. He showed no emotion in his eyes. They bore right through me. He said flatly, I just wanted to let you know, your back right wheel is wobbling. I said, oh, okay, thank you.

Rolled up my window and continued to sit in my car. The Bronco pulled forward slowly, paused, and then began to move down the street. I watched him travel as far as I could see him, which was pretty much a straight shot, all the way through town and back out onto the highway. When he was no longer visible, I went inside, where everyone was asleep. I made a mental note to have my dad look at my car the next day, and I went to bed.

The next morning, I almost forgot about the strangeness of my night. I was making myself some breakfast while my mom was in the kitchen. I had plans to go somewhere that day, as it was Saturday. Then I remembered the wobbly tire, and I asked my dad if he could take a look at it, because I didn't want emergency car issues to derail my plans. He did a cursory inspection, and said that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the wheel or the tire, but to keep an eye on it. My life continued as normal.

The bronchal man and the wobbly tire faded from my mind. I didn't think too much of it, and considered it a mistake of someone who maybe thought they were trying to help me. Several weeks passed. One day I was reading an article in a local newspaper about some girls in the area who had been kidnapped, taken to an abandoned farmhouse or barns, and were raped. Now, when I got to the part describing the abductors' M.O., I froze. The abductor, it said, would follow girls in his vehicle, honking and flashing his lights as

if to alert them of car trouble. When the girls pulled over to the side of the road, the abductor would seize them. After he took them to another location, he would then release them or take them back to their vehicles. I ran to my mom and recalled the night a few weeks before when I had the same harassing experience while driving. I had not retold the whole story before because I honestly didn't think it was anything sinister until that news article. We contacted law enforcement and I told my story.

The town Marshall came to get my report and I had to look at some facial sketches. I remember it being difficult to be decisive on recognition since it was dark that evening, and the man was sitting in the Bronco. But I did my best. The things I easily remembered and still remember were the salt and pepper hair, as well as his eyes, and the way they bore through me. I started to retrace the evening.

Where did he first see me and decide that I was a target? The salon, the shoe store? Maybe this was just some kind of coincidence. I doubt it. Why didn't I know it was license plate? That was my lapse of judgment. And did he try to follow me in the days after that? I mean, he saw where I lived. I felt extremely lucky that my gut had told me to keep driving and that I had listened to it.

I thought it was odd that the Bronco man had chosen to pull up next to me and speak, even though it was clear that I had arrived at my destination. He was obviously determined, and must have thought that he had one last chance to grab me if I got out of my car even in town. But I'm glad he made that mistake, and also that maybe my report helped in some way to catch him. I do not remember if he was found. I left soon after for college. The Bronco man, and that night faded from my memory.

I've lived in several large cities since then and have experienced some things that a lot of people might consider scary. I don't know for sure. I think I just roll with the punches. Fast forward to 2010. My then husband and I were relaxing on the sofa watching a movie. It was Zodiac.

The 2007 movie retelling of the Zodiac murders. As I sit there watching, I think this is a decent movie, I haven't seen it. But I'm familiar with the story, and I'm enjoying learning some of the facts, as well as the timeline of the murders. But there's this scene. A woman is driving down the road. Someone is flashing their lights and honking behind her aggressively. The woman pulls over. This is stupid, do not do it. The guy in the car pulls over behind her.

He walks up to her and says, your right tire is loose. I can fix it for you. I freeze. I sit upon the sofa. I ask to stop the movie. My husband is confused and stares blankly as I shake my head. I just say, I have a story to tell. I've never told you about this.

In fact, I have hardly thought of it until now, seeing this scene. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. This week you have heard. He tapped on the window by listener Megan, a scary night in Seattle by listener Julia, an untitled story by listener Jin Napp. Run like your life depends on it by listener Kaylee. Come alone, don't tell anyone where you're going by listener Susan. And finally, Bronco Man by Listener Daphne. 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. If you want to hear your story on the show, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. And if you want to get access to weekly bonus episodes of Let's Not Meet a True Horror podcast, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet podcast or follow the link in the shown notes. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode. Stay safe. 1 tbc sdmd 1 tbc sdmd 1 tbc sdmd

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