transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:00] This podcast contains adult language and content. The stories shared in this podcast are told from the perspective of the authors. Their accounts and opinions are personal and do not reflect the stance of the production team. If you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. I went on a Tinder date some time ago while I was adjusting to a new city I had just moved to. I didn't really know anybody there, so I used some online dating apps to see the dating scene around town. I wound up landing a date with the girl who seemed just like an artsy, hippie type of person. We had a few exchanges through the Tinder app, and then decided to meet up for a drink. I picked her up at her house, and she greeted me at the door and gave me a hug. She said the name of a local dye bar that she wanted to go to for us to chat and get to know each other. I told her I would drive, and we proceeded to my car. The first red flag I noticed was when we walked to my car and opened the door. She had followed me to the driver's side and was standing behind me, just staring. I looked at her blankly for about 15 seconds and asked her if she was going to get in. She said, Sure, I would love to. And then went the long way around to the passenger side, around the back of the car. Since I had just met the girl, I figured maybe she had smoked some weed or something, and I kind of got the vibe that she was a bit of a stoner, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. As I was driving to the bar, she talked in a very low voice, almost as if she were trying to whisper. I'm not hard of hearing or anything, but I had to ask her to repeat herself several times, just so that I could make out the full sentence she was saying. When we got to the bar, I made sure that we got a seat closer to the back away from most people, just so I could try and have a quieter space in order to hear her properly. Our conversation from there honestly carried on as normal from that point, and it was actually a fun time. We talked about different things that we were interested in, and she finally confirmed what I had already assumed. She mentioned she recreationally used weed as well as a few other tripping substances like shrooms and such. Personally, I'm not much of a fan of these, but it at least made me relax in the back of my mind, since this rationally explained some of the behavior that I was initially considering pretty out there. Granted, I had a few drinks at this point, so I was feeling pretty out there myself. I asked her if she wanted to go to my place afterwards for drinks, and she agreed. When we arrived at my place, we had a few more drinks, and then she started talking about her jewelry. This was when it got weird. She told me her jewelry was a big secret, and she said it was what defined her. When I asked her why it was so important, she explained, I'm actually Anastasia, and I was never killed in Russia. My jewelry is a link to my past. It was hard for me to take that seriously, especially since I had so much to drink, so I sort of challenged her on this, using the little bit that I knew about history. This freaked her out, and she started yelling at the top of her lungs about how I didn't respect her ancestors or history. She then came right up to me, grabbed me by my neck, and brought my face eye to eye with hers while still holding my neck. Then she said, I will curse you. My ancestors have destroyed many people, and you don't respect that. You have a lot of oppressive ancestry, and you will be punished. She then put her hand on my whiskey glass, made a cross on my face, and kissed my forehead. This made me sober up. I talked her into calming down. I told her I was only joking. Then she slowly started acting normal again. However, not for long, because she then moved on to talking about her cat fetish. She told me that she had a group of people whom she had tamed to act as cats. Now, I'm not judging people for their fetishes, so I tried to just listen to her. She then told me all of the things that she does to her cat people, and then started acting like a cat in my living room. This was a huge red flag again, but I continued listening to her and tried my best not to set her off. She then noticed sage in my kitchen on the counter. She asked me to let her light it and bless the house. I actually did use sage to make the house smell better occasionally. It's a bit of a ritual I like to do, and it's something I like to do personally, so I told her no and told her she couldn't light it. She freaked out again, and she told me that I was a horrible human being, while she paced all over the house, screaming. I let her know that I was going to take her home after that, so she ran to the door and went outside. When I got outside, she was screaming at the top of her lungs, still saying that I was a horrible person. So I told her she could walk herself home instead. I went back inside and locked the door. She then started banging on the door, saying she had left her phone inside. I found it on the kitchen counter, so I grabbed it, opened the door and handed it to her. She tried to barge back inside, but I blocked her with my forearm. Then she acted like she was about to punch me. I held my ground and I told her she wasn't allowed to come back inside my house. She was screaming, saying that she wanted the whiskey bottle that we were drinking from. I told her no, and I slammed and locked the door at that point, because it was time for her to go. She began banging on the door again for a bit, but then I heard her footsteps going down the stairs. I waited an hour and then went outside to see if she was still hanging around. I didn't see her, nor did I ever see her again after that. For the next few nights, I was creeped out as I was walking around the area I live in, since I was worried that I'd find her hanging around. I honestly hope that she is okay wherever she is, but I also hope to never meet her again. This story took place a while ago. I was 14. I had recently tried smoking weed for the first time, and in my 14-year-old mind, there was absolutely nothing better than taking a nice toke, munching on some food, and then passing out. So, on this night in particular, I was sleeping over at a friend's house. We'll call her Dinah. Dinah and I had already burned through our first little stash of weed, but we had started to come down from our high, and we wanted more because, well, it was fun and we didn't want to stop. The two of us managed to scrounge together enough money for a joint. This wasn't a big enough purchase for the dealer to drive over and drop it off, so we made the not so smart decision to sneak out and go to him. We were desperate, I know. Now, looking back, I'm aware that this was a really naïve thing to do. We were two 14-year-olds who were 5'2 and 5'4 respectively, and we were ridiculously easy to overpower. But back then we thought we were invincible. So we threw on our jackets and beanies and left through Dinah's back door. After making it out onto the street, we noticed just how empty it was. Not a single person was around, and the air was dead still. The street lamps illuminated the sidewalks pretty well, but now and again, there would be certain patches darker than others. Keep in mind, it was two in the morning, so it's safe to assume that anyone who would approach two teen girls at that hour probably had ill intentions. Anyway, we were about halfway to the meeting spot. From behind me, I heard a low rumble of a vehicle. I whipped my head around and saw this huge truck driving directly towards us. In my slightly high, paranoid mind, I decided that I was not in the mood for having to potentially talk to a stranger. So I grabbed Dinah's arm and I dragged her down the next side street that we saw. Once we rounded that corner, we continued walking down the street. I relaxed a bit when I heard the truck continuing to drive straight instead of turning down the street we had just turned on. For context, I need to explain how these streets work. There are so many little streets and they're all connected here. But there are also back alleys where people's garages are. Basically, the front of your house has a street and the back has a garage which goes into the alley. Now, since we saw the truck drive past, we calmed down. But then out of nowhere, I heard this truck again. But this time it was coming from in front of us. Once more, I was panicking. Dinah and I sprinted in between two houses where there wasn't any light. The houses were ridiculously close together, so it's easy to hide behind them. From there, I saw this truck drive by super slowly, as if it were looking for us. It was the same truck as before. I was terrified as we were watching this truck. We were both pressed up against the house, trying to stay in the shadows and not be seen. The truck eventually continued driving past, and then we heard its engine roar. The truck did another loop, and it was now in the back alley of these houses tearing down with its brights on. I think they thought that we would cut through the side to get to the back alley rather than just staying put in between the sides of the houses. We heard the truck slow down before it turned back around to head out to the street again. At this point, Dinah had to call the police. We decided it was obvious that this person was looking for us. While Dinah was on the phone, I was looking out for the truck. I saw it coming down the street once more. It was going slow once again. This time, however, it pulled over on the side of the road. Once I saw this, I shuffled back to my hiding spot, and I just prayed that I had not given us away. The operator told us to stay on the line and let us know that the cops were on their way, but all I could hear was the sound of one of the truck's doors opening and closing. We listened and heard the sound of urgent footsteps walking down the pavement. We were still fully hidden, so we couldn't see the street, but the sound of shoes slapping against the pavement was unmistakable. So we knew that's what was happening. The footsteps slowed after a minute or so, and finally we heard the door of the truck open and close again. The truck then peeled out of its spot and drove away. The cops arrived shortly after and took statements from us. They also drove us back home. Other than being a bit shaken, we were okay. We never told either of our parents, out of fear of getting in trouble, I don't know who this person was or what they wanted, but I am very grateful that for whatever reason they gave up searching for us and left us alone that night. I'm going to be honest, I've never been someone who really knew what they were doing when it came to cannabis. The whole dispensary experience always felt overwhelming and intimidating. Walls of products with names that honestly mean nothing. And you're just supposed to figure out which one is right for you. But mood.com completely changed that for me. And our listeners can get 20% off their first order with promo code MEET. So keep that handy because this is actually fascinating. Here's the nerdy part. The reason different cannabis strains make you feel differently isn't just about the THC. It's also about the compounds called terpenes. Terpenes influence how the blood tastes and smells, but they also affect how you feel. One terpene might make you feel uplifted and energetic. Another makes you feel relaxed and sleepy. Another helps soothe your mind. So what mood did is partner with dozens of small American farms to custom cultivate, flour and gummies, with specific terpene profiles designed for specific moods. You just go to mood.com, click shop by mood and that's it. I personally love the Pure Relief CBD gummies. It gives me a gentle relaxation, but there's no psychoactive effects. It's perfect for when you just want to take the edge off without actually getting high. Because I'll be honest, I can freak out sometimes. They're smooth, easy, and exactly what they promise. Everything is 100% federally legal, third-party lab tested, ships discreetly right to your door, and backed by a 100-day satisfaction guarantee. Head to mood.com and use promo code MEET at checkout for 20% off your first order. That's mood.com promo code MEET. This happened to me and a close friend of mine. We're both men, and we're both 23 as of last month. We decided to go on a two-night camping trip to the mountains in New York. We're very comfortable with nature and spend a lot of time camping, hunting, and fishing. We hiked for about five miles to a small lake and set up camp at a beach. This wasn't a heavily trafficked area. We didn't expect to run into anyone. On our first night, as we were sitting around the fire, we saw a flashlight moving on the other side of the lake around 1030. This was fairly unusual, but we didn't think too much of it. But as time went on, this flashlight kept moving around the lake getting closer to our campsite. We kept discussing who could be wandering around the woods in the middle of the night. We didn't particularly want any unwelcome guests. Once it was clear that the person or people were heading for our campsite, we moved off into the woods nearby to see who wandered up. I took a small axe with me and my friend a.22 rifle. We weren't expecting any trouble. We certainly didn't want to make any, but we figured we might as well cover our bases. When the moment of truth arrived and the flashlight came near the light of our fire, it was a man by himself. He had a beard and seemed to be probably in his mid-40s. The really scary part was that he was carrying what turned out to be a pump-action shotgun. He walked around our campsite a few times and then proceeded to enter our tent. After rummaging around for a minute or so, he came out and yelled, I know you're out there. Why don't you come and say hello? My friend and I remained motionless under a hemlock tree about 50 yards away. That was when the man proceeded to fire his shotgun into the woods, not too far from where we were. He also swung his flashlight around several times. After what felt like hours, he grabbed my friend's backpack and a few articles of clothing that we had hung to dry near the fire and threw them in to burn. My friend, who had trained with the 22 at the range, asked me if he should shoot. I told him absolutely not, not unless he spots us and starts to point his gun in our direction. Thankfully, the man moved on and started walking back to where he had come from. We waited until his flashlight was on the other side of the lake again, and then we ran out, grabbed everything that we could fit in my pack, and took off even though it was late. By then it had been around 2 or 3am. We ran off the trail with flashlights and made it back to my car as the sun was coming up. We immediately went to the police department and reported it, and we also spoke with some forest rangers while we were there. That was it though. I haven't heard anything back from the police, and I have no idea what that guy's deal was, but it creeped the hell out of both of us. This story has five people involved, my friend Quinn, who was with me, Connor, who was tripping, Alex, who resolved the situation, and my mother and me. Quinn and I were upstairs in this lounge type of room watching a horror movie. I think it was The Babysitter. When the movie ended, we were kind of hungry, so we went downstairs to make food in the kitchen. Just to give you a bit of background info, I live in a co-op house, which is like a giant house that several people live in. Everyone has their own bedroom, but we have shared spaces like the living room and the kitchen, etc. While Quinn and I were in the kitchen, Connor walked in completely naked, quietly muttering to himself. Quinn and I were terrified, so we attempted to distract ourselves by Connor erratically paced in and out of the kitchen. Connor then grabbed a huge kitchen knife off of the counter and continued to walk around with it. I heard him say something about bleeding, but I couldn't completely make out anything that he was saying. The next thing I knew, he was walking back to the kitchen, and blood was gushing from his arm. Quinn and I took the next chance we had and bolted up stairs, we hid in the lounge room and blocked the door. We heard the door handle jiggle a couple of times, and then at some point, we heard Alex talking to Connor, likely convincing him to put the knife down. I texted my mother repeatedly, but she was asleep. Quinn also fell asleep as this was happening, but I couldn't even think about sleeping. After a long night of staying up, all I could think about was protecting Quinn. She means a lot to me, so I just couldn't bring myself to leave the room. A few days later, I talked to my mom about the situation, and she explained that Connor was having a really bad drug trip. She said that we hadn't actually been in any danger. Even if that is the case, though, Quinn and I still don't feel safe around Connor, and it's been at least a month since this happened. I'm thankful that Alex ended up stepping in. We honestly owe our lives to them. I'm a 19-year-old woman, and I work in a tiny district with warehouses and factories in the middle of nowhere. The only thing in this area other than all of the warehouses is a gas station. It's a few hundred feet from where I work. I can see it clearly when I step outside. When I get off of work at around five, I walk over to the gas station, buy a drink, light a cigarette, and then wait for my boyfriend to pick me up. This day in particular was no different except for the fact that the gas station was much slower than it usually is. There were only two cars in the lot, one of which belonged to the gas station attendant. After I got my drink, I got a text from my boyfriend saying that he was running late. I sighed, slightly annoyed, and went around the side of the building to smoke in the shade since the sun was out and it was scorching. I was standing there for a few minutes, minding my own business, when I heard running footsteps coming my way. I glanced up confused and saw a scrawny middle-aged man that I had never seen before running towards me with his arms outstretched. Now normally my fight-or-flight response kicks in with fight, but in this instance, I froze. I instinctually covered my face with my hands, embraced myself, waiting to be grabbed. But that didn't happen. The man must not have noticed my cigarette, and I had completely forgotten about it myself, because when he screamed, I was very confused. And then I noticed a red-hot hole burning in his cheek. He started to pull away, but I pushed the butt of it in deeper, before running around him. He then started cursing and muttering to himself, but I didn't stick around to find out what he was saying. I just ran back into the store, slammed the doors behind me, and told the cashier what happened. The cashier, who appeared to be around my age, insisted on calling the police, but I told her not to. I was so tired, and I just wanted to go home. By the time we were brave enough to see if the man was still there, he and the cigarette butt were long gone. My boyfriend came not too long after, and we went home. I told him everything, and he said that he's going to make sure that he's right there when I get off from work from now on. I still have a lot of unanswered questions about this, and since I didn't call the police, I doubt I'm going to get any. I can't help but wonder, who was this random man, and why was he in the factory district? There weren't any businesses or residential areas for miles, so I just don't understand what he was doing there. Why did he randomly decide to grab me in broad daylight? What were his intentions? I've never been in a confrontation this serious before. I carry a knife and pepper spray, but I didn't even think of them until after the fact. I guess you really don't know what you'll do in a situation like this until it actually happens. I'm just grateful that my bad habit actually did something good for me that day. This happened in the mid-80s. I was 12 and my sister was 9. We walked home from school every day on a route that we knew by heart. It's funny how a memory can stay so vivid for 40 years, but when I think about it, I can still feel the exact moment the hair on my arms stood up. One day, we were about halfway home from school when I noticed an older man who was just repairing some shoes on the side of the road. This didn't look like an official business at all. I think this was just how he was earning some extra money. Now I know my sister was a very lively girl, and I'm not lying when I say she was the prettiest in her classroom, and even on our block. I got chills the moment that this man looked at my sister. I felt this different kind of creeped out. It was something that made me feel my hair rising, and when we walked past him, I knew to stay aware of what was happening behind us. My gut had never betrayed me before, and it didn't in this instance either, because he then started following us, keeping a consistent distance. My sister being nine was totally oblivious. She was just chatting away about her day swinging her backpack. Meanwhile, I couldn't even scream. It was like I didn't know how to talk. I was just so full of stress and fear from the situation. I knew that if I turned onto our street, which was quiet and lined with trees, we would be alone with him. Right before our turn, there was a small local restaurant. I didn't even explain anything, I just grabbed my sister and pulled her inside. We didn't buy anything. I led her straight to the back near the restrooms, and we stood there in the narrow hallway. I remember my sister was confused and started complaining that she wanted to go home. She kept saying that she was hungry and wanted to eat the cookies that our mother had promised to bake us that day. But I kept my hand on her shoulder and kept gesturing to her telling her to be quiet. Then I peeked through the side window, and maybe 30 seconds later, the man walked past, and he stopped. He stood on the sidewalk looking up and down the road, looking genuinely frustrated that he lost sight of us. He lingered for what felt like an hour, but it was probably only a couple of minutes before he finally gave up and kept walking. We waited a long time before we felt it was safe enough to leave. From that day on, I refused to take that route, even though we had always taken it. I started walking two blocks out of the way, and I never let my sister be more than an arm's length away from me. Last week we were talking about our childhood, and she asked me why I was always so bossy and paranoid about leaving the house alone back then. When I finally told her the truth, the look on her face told me that she had no idea she was ever in danger. I'm 54 now, and I still think about that man. I still feel the same chills every time we walk past that route, even though it's been decades. Good hair days do more than we give them credit for. When your hair feels healthy, you show up differently, you feel more confident, more relaxed, and you're not constantly checking the mirror. Nutrafol supports hair health from within and delivers results over time so your hair becomes something you enjoy, not something you stress about. And if I'm going to be honest, I was very skeptical about hair supplements at first. But what I love about Nutrafol is how thoughtful the approach is. Nutrafol is the number one dermatologist recommended hair growth supplement brand, and it's the number one hair growth supplement brand personally used by dermatologists. Nutrafol hair growth supplements are peer-reviewed, NSF certified for sport and clinically tested. It's not a one-size-fits-all approach. Nutrafol offers multiple formulas for men and women tailored to different life stages, like postpartum or menopause, and lifestyle factors, such as plant-based diets, so you're getting the support that's actually right for you. So, adding Nutrafol to your daily routine is easy. Order online, no prescription needed, with automated deliveries and free shipping to keep you on track. Plus, with a Nutrafol subscription, you can save up to 20% and get added perks like a free Headspace membership to support your hair health journey. Let your hair become one less thing taking up space in your head, and see thicker, stronger, faster-growing hair with less shedding in just 3-6 months with Nutrafol. For a limited time, Nutrafol is offering our listeners $10 off your first month's subscription and free shipping when you visit nutrafol.com and enter promo code MEET. That's nutrafol.com spelled nutrafol.com promo code MEET. I Stopped Smoking Weed This Year I stopped smoking weed this year. I'm a 20 year old woman, and a couple of weeks after I initially stopped, I broke up with this toxic ex I was with. After doing so, I went over to my friend's house, or at least I thought he was my friend. He and I had met over Facebook the year prior and became friends. My ex didn't like that I was friends with this guy, so when I broke up with him, I asked him if I could come over. He was in a psychology program at the university in town, so I think he thought that was good leverage to use to start asking me questions about the breakup. When we first became friends, I had been open with him about my past and the abuse I experienced. When I met up with him, he brought up various aspects of my past and asked if I was experiencing any problems. I told him I was trying to quit smoking. He asked if I'd like to try some CBD that he had, as he liked the effects of it with his use of THC. I figured since I hadn't taken a dab in a long time, some CBD might help with the anxiety I normally felt while smoking. So he sprinkled his white-powdered CBD on top of the wax, and I took a hit. I instantly started trembling, like normal. But this time, I was also feeling terribly nauseous, which wasn't normal. He noticed and offered to have us move over to his bed to sit down and watch a movie. After he put a movie on, he put his arm around me. Now this was fine with me since I didn't think he would try to get with me so soon after a breakup, or at all, really. But I didn't tell him it made my anxiety worse or anything like that, either. Then he asked me something very strange. He asked, can you show me your scars? I gave him a weird look, and then he quickly explained. I want to make sure they're not infected or anything. Now I had a fresh scar on my right thigh. I was wearing sweats and a sweatshirt, but I was still quite taken aback by his request. No, sorry, I'm not comfortable with that, I replied. It's not like I'm trying to get you out of your pants, he nearly scoffed. I just want to make sure they're okay. I'm in psychology, remember? I wouldn't do anything to harm you. This was a huge red flag. I knew exactly what he was doing, and it wasn't cool at all. No, sorry, I repeated. I'm not comfortable with that. Actually, I think my sister wanted me to come over tonight, so I should be leaving. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. You can stay longer, I'll drop it, he said. As I was gathering my things, I was shaking pretty badly, still nauseous. My anxiety was through the roof, and I was cursing myself for going over to this guy's place and partaking in something that I was trying to quit. No thanks, I'll see you around sometime, I said. As I walked down the stairs to put my shoes back on, he followed me. Look, I'm really just trying to be your friend. I promise that I didn't mean anything by my questions. We can hang out with my friends and they'll let you know how great and caring of a guy I am, I promise, he insisted. I put my shoes on, opened the front door and replied, I'm sure they will, but I really need to get going, my sister is waiting for me at her house. He then proceeded to pull me in for a hug while I awkwardly stood there, not hugging him back. Then I quickly left and drove to my house, where I lived with my dad and my stepmom. I had been smoking for three years at this point, so I had my fair share of anxieties from weed and taking dabs, but I had never felt intense nausea quite like this. I even felt like I started tripping on the way back to my place as I was driving. The road looked like it was all over the place, everything was swirling and the rain pouring down wasn't helping with my sight. The world around me also turned black, red, and blue. Honestly, it was the worst trip of my life, and all I was told was that I was smoking a dab with CBD on it. When I got home, I went straight downstairs to my room. I looked at myself in the mirror and I saw how incredibly pale I was. Then I went upstairs for some water and my dad asked me what happened. I told him that I had smoked and he knew I was trying to quit and that I wasn't feeling well. As I told him this, I felt this overwhelming urge to throw up, so I impulsively ran over to the garbage and I dry heaved a few times before finally puking. My dad then helped me downstairs because by then, I was nearly passing out. He got me situated on my bed with a bucket and then I kept dry heaving until I eventually passed out. He was so worried that he stayed by my side and had 911 dialed in case something worse happened. I was so groggy the next day, but ultimately fine. I have strong suspicions that it wasn't CBD that he sprinkled on top of that dab, but that's my story of how I officially quit smoking weed. I haven't seen that guy since and I don't think I want to. Let's Not Meet.

Speaker 2:
[36:13] I want to start by saying, this isn't the first bad experience I've had when dog-sitting, but it's definitely the worst. So I started dog-sitting back when I was 13 and have made good money doing so. I'm currently 19, and this happened when I was 18. I set up an easy way for people to contact me about dog-sitting. I put out posts on Facebook and Instagram about it often, which has helped me get people in my messages asking, did dog sit? I got a notification from Instagram one day stating someone was trying to message me. I accepted the request and the message said, my wife and I are looking to find a dog sitter while we're away for a week in Florida. We will need you to work from the 4th to the 11th this month, and we will pay you $300 for the week. You're welcome to stay at our house or go back and forth between our place and yours. After reading this message, I started talking with this man whom we'll just call Mr. Brown for the sake of privacy. By the end of our conversation, I agreed to take the gig and told him I would stay at his house for the week. Once I got to his house, I was introduced to his two dogs, Mina and Letty. Mina was a little Yorkshire Terrier and Letty was a blue hound. I was then shown around the property, which was surrounded by 76 acres. I live in a farm town and live on 32 acres myself, so staying in a location like this didn't really freak me out. The closest neighbors were pretty far away, and you would actually have to drive there if you wanted to talk to them. They told me the rules and when to feed them and so on. Then Mrs. Brown told me about the nearest neighbor. In her words, she was a nice person, just a little confused. She mentioned that sometimes this neighbor would pull into their driveway instead of her own. Mrs. Brown said, it generally wouldn't amount to much though. She said if the neighbor came up to the house, she'd just point her back towards her home and she'd leave with no problems. After they left, I was ready to just chill and watch movies with the dogs. The first two days were fine with no hiccups. On the third day, however, the neighbor, whom I'll call Mrs. Rose, did pull into the driveway just as I was warned. I went outside just as she was getting out of her car. She looked up and saw me and then immediately got back in her car and left. I chalked it up to her realizing she was at the wrong house when she saw me and went back inside. Later that night, I got a call from Mrs. Brown asking if I was okay. I told her that I was and asked why. She then went on to tell me about how she got a call from Mrs. Rose, who said there was a robber at their house. I explained what happened and she just laughed and said she must have been confused and forgot they were out of town. I ended the phone call and made a mental note to myself to go over to Mrs. Rose's house the next day to clear the air about why I was there. But once I went to bed that night, things got crazy. I woke up around 2 a.m. since I heard a light scratching sound that almost sounded like ticking coming from outside the window. At first, I thought it might have been a bird or some sort of nighttime creature, so I brushed it off. The noise continued, though, and it kept me from falling back asleep. I still thought it was just an animal, so I decided to scare it away. I got up, I went to open the blinds, and I screamed when I lifted the blinds, only to see Ms. Rose trying to pry the window open with a pair of pliers. Once she saw me, she started banging on the window with the pliers. The dogs started barking, so I started walking out of the room. I told the dogs to follow me, grabbed my phone and ran to a room with no windows, which was the bathroom, and locked myself and the dogs inside, just in case she got in. I called 911 and quickly explained the situation. I gave them the address from what I could remember, and the dispatcher said the police would be there in 10 minutes. Honestly, for the area, this was a pretty good ETA, considering how rural their area was. While still on the call, I quieted the dogs down so Miss Rose wouldn't hear them, and I was trying to stay calm too, but I could still hear pounding on the window. As I continued to talk to the operator, I heard glass shatter. I cursed under my breath, and I was trying not to cry, but I was really scared, and essentially on the verge of crying due to fear I was feeling. I felt like I was about to get beaten to death by someone who was clearly not in the right state of mind. I was whispering what was happening to the operator while hiding as far back in the bathroom as I could. I was standing in the tub. After about four minutes of silence, I heard footsteps, and I could see feet on the other side of the door. I then saw Miss Rose get on the ground to look under the crack of the door, which made me mistakenly land on a gasp. She then quickly sprang back up to her feet and started pounding on the bathroom door. I could tell she was still using the pliers, and at this point I couldn't help myself, so I was crying as I asked the operator where the police were. The dispatcher said they were still three minutes away. Those three minutes felt like forever. I screamed at Miss Rose to please go away, and she screamed back telling me I wasn't supposed to be there. Once I heard the sound of police cars, about a minute later I heard one of them trying to kick the door down, which made me feel a little better. I was told to stay on the line until the intruder Miss Rose was caught. Eventually the police got into the house, and I yelled to get their attention, not that they needed it since Miss Rose was still banging on the door. Once they got to her, she was told to drop her weapon, and she complied, saying she wasn't doing anything wrong. They got her into cuffs, and a police officer then told me it was okay to unlock the door. So I slowly got out of the bathtub and unlocked the door. After being taken to the police station and giving them my story for their report, I went to my parents' house because I was just too scared to be alone. The next day, I called Mrs. Brown and told her everything that happened. I was still paid in full for the week even though I told them I wasn't going to be able to go back to their house. They called me a few days later, saying that Ms. Rose was under the influence of drugs. In her words, she told the police she decided to take care of the robber, me, herself. And she was adamant that she had done nothing wrong. In the end, she ended up being charged with breaking and entering, which is sort of ironic. I quit dog-sitting after that, and I'm a lot more paranoid in general now. I always make sure my doors and windows are locked. Ms. Rose, let's not meet again.

Speaker 1:
[43:57] I work in food service, front of house, so in the early days of the pandemic, with restaurants being closed, I was taking work wherever I could find it. As such, an old friend clued me into a mechanical office that needed someone to come in and do a bit of light filing. I was able to go in at night to limit direct contact with people, so I jumped on the opportunity right away. Ironically, the medical office job had been the safest gig I had been offered, COVID-wise. For this job, I headed in at almost 3 a.m. because the shift started after the cleaning crew had left. I wanted to avoid taking the bus if I could due to the crowds, so I decided to swing for a rideshare app. It wasn't all that expensive in my area, and I really didn't want to contract a virus, and I was kicking myself for being so cautious because it was exhausting. On the first day of needing to go to this job, I stumbled onto the block looking for my ride, and to my tired self's great relief, the car spotted me almost instantly and pulled up to me. They asked, Are you waiting for Uber? This was great since I was clueless wandering up and down the street searching for it. The ride was taking a while, but I had just moved to the area within the last year, so I wasn't familiar with all of the surrounding areas. I got in and didn't think twice about it. I was pretty alert at first, and I was trying to pass the time playing games on my phone, stuff like that. The car didn't have a compatible phone charging port for me, and I wasn't sure if my work building would have one. So I had to stop playing around with my phone at some point to conserve battery, so I would be able to reserve a ride back home after work. I put my phone on airplane mode and eventually drifted off from a combination of tiredness and boredom. Now I don't often take rideshares, so being alone with a strange driver often puts me a bit on edge. But this guy had a pretty boring car, and a very standard look about him. He looked a bit like my brother. He looked young, clean cut, and was listening to jazz. There was nothing about him or the drive that screamed, you need to micromanage this trip. When we arrived, the Uber tried to wake me up by calling to me from the front, but I was sleeping too deeply and I couldn't fully distinguish reality from my dream. Finally, he awkwardly jostled my leg to wake me up and said, ma'am, ma'am, we're here now. I was embarrassed that I had been that out of it, so I gave him a hurried thanks and then booked it out of the car and into the building. As I looked around, I began to realize that nothing was what I had expected of an office park. I had seen a street view of the building when I first looked up the business, and it appeared to be a strip mall plaza. The further I walked around, the more loudly the alarm bells were ringing in my head. The structure was semi-delapidated, and it was pitch black past the entry. I expected some lights to be off at night, but not the whole building. I then skittered across the concrete foundation, comprising what was left in the lobby area, told myself they were just renovating, and followed the signs for the stairs. After what felt like ages, but was likely just a few minutes, all I had passed was construction equipment, a couple of locked doors, and some smashed windows. I was certain I was not going to find a medical office, and I figured I must have mixed up the address. So I took out my phone to double check, but once I got it out of airplane mode, I barely got a signal. I kept moving around the building, pacing, looking for a stronger signal. I eventually confirmed in my texts that I had written down the correct address just by scrolling back, which didn't require service. Since I had only been inside for a few minutes at most, I figured I should try to get in touch with the driver. Because if I entered the correct address, then it was only fair he should continue my ride to the correct place and save me the additional fees of requesting a second trip, considering this was all his mix up. The app was taking forever to load with my slow service. But before I could get to the cloud of reception, I heard a rustling sound in the lower level of the building. I was on the top floor, and the only stairwell I was aware of was the one I had taken up. So there was no way to exit the building without encountering whoever was downstairs. In an abandoned building in the late hours of the night, I figured the chances were high that it was a squatter of some sort, and I had no desire to try slipping past them, especially since it was so late, and they might have been jumpy and on edge. I tried to get a text out to a group of friends with my address and request to call 911 to help me get away from the property because I didn't feel safe walking through that area at night. This was the only thing that I could think of to do since I didn't have enough reception to call a new ride, but the message didn't send because my signal was too weak. So I gave up on getting my phone going and started checking for another stairwell or even a window with a balcony or a dumpster below that could be used to exit from the second floor as a last resort, if whoever was downstairs came upstairs. Then I scrambled over to a door with a sign that said stairs on it. But the stairs were completely dilapidated, and it was essentially just a straight drop down to the first floor. At that point, the worst-case scenario began to unfold. I heard whoever was downstairs had begun to make their way up the stairs. I thought fast and figured that based on my walk around the floor, it was basically a giant loop. So, I would have to wait for whoever this was to come up the stairs, wait for them to get all the way up, and then sprint in the opposite direction of wherever they were going. Then I'd have to try and get down the stairs and out of the building in time to make it to the road without encountering them. I was not anticipating being chased or anything like that, but I didn't want to piss off whoever this was. I didn't want them to feel as though I had trespassed and become hostile toward me, or have any sort of altercation that would occur at that hour in an abandoned industrial park. So I then held my breath for what felt like five minutes, but was likely closer to just thirty, and a person appeared at the top of the stairs. To my great relief, it was the Uber driver. I figured he had come back for me, realizing he had left me in the wrong spot, a place that could have worked out to be dangerous. So I came out from behind the beam I was hiding behind, and started to wave him down. But then, I processed the situation. There was no way for him to realize this had been the wrong address. My stomach lurched forward, and my blood chilled to a slush. I made eye contact with him, very briefly, and he was completely calm and composed, but breathing pretty heavily, as he blocked the only stairwell leading downstairs. On a normal, rational day, as an outside observer, I could think of a dozen innocent reasons he might have returned. But in the moment standing across from him, I just knew that, in my gut, this was someone with ill intent. I can't remember much more from the ensuing few minutes. Operating solely on muscle memory and instinct, I dove for the second stairwell's opening and let myself fall the drop. Thankfully, I don't think he saw where I went at first, and though I was in too much pain to know it then, plenty bruised, nothing was completely broken. I then quickly scrambled up to my feet and threw myself at anything that seemed like it could be a door. It was too dark to tell. I was disoriented from the fall, and I wasn't in a calm enough mind state to think to use my phone flashlight. Plus, in hindsight, some part of me probably knew it would call too much attention to my location. Just before I was able to reach for the door, it flew open with a blinding light beaming straight into my eyes. My first thought, though not totally coherent, was, there's another one of these guys. And I stumbled backwards, trying to find something to hide behind. Before I could react, a voice called out and said, this is the police department. Everyone get on your knees with your hands in the air. I didn't believe it was the police at first. I was in such a fight-or-flight mode, and I had already committed to flight, thinking of ways to get out. But he kept shining the flashlight right at me as I teetered around, and he yelled, hey, I said get on the ground now, hands out where I can see them. He sounded so authoritative that I just automatically did exactly as he asked. Then he approached me and finally shone the light away from me. It took a second for me to get my vision back, but once I did, I could see he really was a police officer. I tried to explain what happened, but he started asking me a bunch of questions. And between his questioning and what had just happened, and the fear of the driver coming back, it all snowballed, and I was unable to form a single articulate sentence. He was asking easy questions too, like, can you tell me your name? Do you have any knives, needles, or anything that could poke me or cut me? Would you rather talk in here or outside? But I was totally stunned, babbling in response at first, which led him to believe that I was on something. So he directed me out to his car, and once I was safely out of the building, I was able to start getting my bearings just a bit. As I sat on the edge of the backseat of the squad car, facing out with the open door, he stood across from me and asked me the same questions. The first thing I could think to ask was, did my friends call you? What did they tell you? Since I thought that maybe my text from earlier had possibly gone through. He explained that nobody had called him. He was just patrolling the area, and noticed a car idling outside of the building that he had known to be condemned. He knew that nobody was supposed to be inside, and explained, When someone is inside, they're not up to anything good. He then launched into asking if I had gone there to shoot up or meet a John, and he said that he had resources that he could direct me to. He closed out with a lecture and said that it was not the ideal place to do either of those things, and asked if I had somewhere safe to stay that night, but I was still stuck on something else he had said. And finally it clicked, the car. I spilled my whole rideshare story in a frantic word vomit. He looked around and the car wasn't there anymore. The officer guessed that the guy had driven off while we were talking inside the building. He asked me all of the details I remembered and I told him, but there weren't many as I had been too tired, but the officer realized that I could pull up my Uber app and get all the information. There wasn't really enough reception there, even outdoors, so we sped down the road, and once I had enough bars, the app roared to life, and I had missed four notifications from Uber. It was my actual driver. They messaged me and said, Hello, I've arrived. I don't see you. Can you confirm the pickup address is correct? I didn't respond to that message, so they then said, I'm still here, and I'm flashing my hazards. Finally, after no response from me, I got a notification that said, Unfortunately, your driver canceled the ride. At first, I thought that the driver was so cunning as to pick me up while sending these fake messages and canceling so the GPS wouldn't track us, knowing I wouldn't notice because I was asleep with my phone off, which would exonerate him. But instead, I checked the car details, and checking again, it was definitely not the same driver. The person who had driven me to this abandoned building had not been my Uber. My driver was somewhere else on the street when this guy pulled up to me. The policeman took my statement and said that they would keep an eye out for the guy, but the best I could give them to go off of was basically, he was a young looking guy with brown hair, sideburns, and a goatee, and then vaguely described the car. This was a tough description to give since it's like one out of every four guys in this city. I feel so blessed to have survived this insanely dangerous near miss. Suffice it to say I do not take rideshare services anymore. So before you get into a car, Quadroop will check the license plate and the driver's name. You just never know. Thanks for listening, and thanks to our guest Scaroline for appearing on the show again. This is her third appearance. Be sure to check out her Twitch channel at twitch.tv/scaroline, or follow the link in the show notes. She streams Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays. It's a scary good time. I know you're gonna love it. Be sure to stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended version of this week's episode. If you wanna get access, go to patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. To sign up and support the show today, you'll get access to ad-free versions of all of our episodes at a higher bitrate, plus bonus stories in those extensions that you won't hear anywhere else. Again, that's patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. Be sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails and the Old Time Radio Cast, wherever you get your podcasts, and follow me on Twitch at twitch.tv/crypticcounty. And finally, be sure to send your stories into letsnotmeetstoriesatgmail.com if you'd like to hear them on the show. This week you have heard Tender Date Turned Out Weird by Unnamed. Don't Meet Up With Your Dealer at 2am by Depressed Manes. Earlier this year I stopped smoking by Banana. Lakeside Lunatic by WaffleHump. Someone Who Lives in My House Had a Really Bad Drug Trip by Storm. Smoking Saved Me from a Creeper by Natural Edged. I Finally Told My Sister by NoZone. How Dogsitting Almost Got Me Killed by AstrianReal. And Finally, My Uber Driver Took Me to an Abandoned Building by TheRoshman. 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. Again, send your stories to letsnotmeetsstories.gmail.com. We'll see you next week. Everybody stay safe.