14x05: Creepy Weed Dealer

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Wild Turkey Bourbon, aged longer, never watered down to create one bold flavor. Copyright 2025 of Harry America, New York, New York, never compromised, drink responsibly.

A few years ago, we used this podcast platform to save the life of a sweet little dog named Charlie, who belonged to one of our longtime listeners named Ashley. Well, we have another mission.

This time around, it's for a cat named Ruben that belongs to our friend, who also happens to be our trusty and reliable dog sitter. Ruben was hospitalized for anemia and sudden weight loss.

He's in need of a blood transfusion and other expensive specialty care to keep him around.

He's only about six years old, and we want to see this little guy live a long and happy life, just like Charlie.

If you have even just a couple of bucks to spare just to help out with vet bills and make this possible, please find it in your heart to follow the GoFundMe link at the top of the show notes and just give whatever you can.

Let's Not Meet owes a huge debt of gratitude to all of the pets out there who are both friends and protectors in a lot of these stories. So let's show them our love and appreciation.

We're nearing the goal right now as I speak. So thanks, everyone.
And thank you for listening. Enjoy the show.

Before sharing my story about this situation and how I got into it, I'd like to introduce myself briefly. I'm 29 years old and I live in Switzerland where I work as a cop.

I respond to emergency calls.

When someone calls my country's emergency number, dispatch sends me and or other officers out to all kinds of different scenes that require different levels of intervention.

Sometimes, this results in seeing things on the job that change your perspective on what is or isn't normal.

You meet all kinds of people and visit all kinds of different places with this job.

But in general, I will say that my country is safe and I tend to only carry my gun home if I have set plans to go training at the shooting range.

Also, because these details are linked to my story, I should mention that I love music and driving cars. It helps me to clear my mind and make me feel good.

I enjoy this this so much that, some time ago, I found out about a club of car enthusiasts and I joined it. From time to time, we meet up and do these little road trips across the country.

The last thing I want to make clear is that I'm also a very chill, very calm person.

I always try to find a peaceful solution, especially with work, and I always try to see the good in people and prefer talking things out.

Now Now on to the story. In 2022, I went on a road trip with this nice guy that I met through the car club.
I'll refer to him as Robert to keep anonymity intact.

The trip that Robert and I went on was really cool. We drove almost all night.
It felt like I was playing Need for Speed.

It was great because the city lights looked beautiful as I was driving, especially at night. I'm more of a night owl anyway.

Well, after that trip, we agreed to stay in touch to plan another driving trip someday.

Weeks passed, and I suddenly got a message on WhatsApp. It read, Hi, it's been a while.
How are you? Still up for a little trip? Tell me when you're free.

When I saw the message, I immediately checked my schedule and found a free day. Assuming it was Robert, I messaged back.
Hey, yeah, sure. I'm free on such and such day.

Let me know what works with you.

He quickly answered. Okay, that works for me.
Should we go hiking?

I was confused. Why is Robert talking about hiking? I wondered.

I checked the message again and noticed I was actually talking to another Robert from my contacts.

Both of them had pictures on their WhatsApp profiles, so not only had I mistaken these guys by their names, but also by their profile pictures, which was easy to do since they happened to look alike.

Now I'll refer to the second Robert as Bert.

Bert was an old acquaintance that I met through some friends of mine when I did some DJ sets at some parties.

I met Bert a few years ago. We both had the same taste in music so we hit it off and even bumped into each other at concerts here and there.

So I unintentionally planned a day with Bert after mistaking him for Robert. I felt bad and I didn't want to cancel even though I wasn't talking to who I thought I was talking to.

But I figured Bert was a nice guy too, and it had been a while since he and I went for a hike in the woods or the mountains together. So I replied, Yeah, man, why the hell not? Let's go.

We then started planning the hike. I didn't want to hike anywhere that was too challenging, so I made a proposition.
I knew of a nice hike that goes through the woods and the mountains.

The views are beautiful, so it's a popular draw, and you get to meet other hikers here and there. The path that I had in mind also had multiple campfire spots where people could stop and grill food.

Bert agreed to this plan and asked if it was okay for me to meet him at the train station before driving to the woods, which I was fine with.

On the day of the hike, I arrived at the train station where Bert said that he would be waiting for me. I looked all over the place and I couldn't find him.
But he finally waved me down.

And this was where I got my first red flag.

The guy who waved me down and said that he was Bert

looked very different from the Bert that I knew. After getting a closer look at him, I realized it was indeed Bert, but he looked disheveled.

He had grown his hair out, so it was long, and he had a beard. I greeted him, put his bag in my trunk, and we headed to the woods.

During the drive, I noticed that Bert smelled really bad. He had this kind of odor that I tend to encounter on the job when I'm in a situation with transients or even drug addicts.

But I noticed that he came well equipped for the hike, so he didn't seem to be in any kind of dire straits. Ultimately, I decided to not judge him by his body odor and chose to ignore it.

Plus, I knew that we would be in the woods shortly, where I wouldn't be able able to notice his scent at all. Soon enough.

Along the way, we stopped at a shop near the woods to get some fire starters, which was when Bert asked me if I was up for changing the location of the hike.

He said he knew of another location that was close to the one I had chosen that had some nice spots for pictures. We both almost always carried good cameras with us.

I'm good with a map, so I checked out the location he was mentioning on this special app.

The hike that he was suggesting was the same length as mine, but it was near a river which I found nice, so I said, okay, let's go check that one out.

When we finally arrived at the forest, I saw some old barns there, and little fields for cows. During the hike, I started asking Bart about his life, to catch up.

I already knew that he was a smart guy who went to engineering school, but he moved from our city and found a job at a construction company where he did all kinds kinds of calculus to figure out how to build stuff.

Our conversation started off pretty normal, but the more I learned about his life, the more I felt something was odd.

Bert started telling me that he had a girlfriend, but they were going through some hard times, and he thought that she might leave him soon.

Then he continued saying that he missed some days at work since he felt depressed, and he wasn't sure if this line of work pleased him anymore.

also said that his attendance had gotten so bad that he might get fired. I was trying to cheer him up and keep him focused on the good stuff, but advised him to consult if necessary.

He then asked me about my job and how I react to dangerous people and situations, stuff like that. I wasn't alarmed by the conversation since I always get those kinds of questions from people.

At some point near the river, we found what looked like ruins from an old mill. It was a cool spot, so I stopped and took a picture or two.

As we continued walking and talking, I noticed that he sometimes just looked a bit off, almost like a robot. I also noticed that we didn't see any people on our path.

The sky was getting cloudy, so I thought it might rain a bit. Luckily, I was well equipped.

I carried everything that anyone would need in this kind of place water, food, fire starters, first aid supplies, and a knife.

We kept moving until we found a campfire spot with a wooden table where we decided to stop and eat.

I asked Bert to get some wood and look for little branches to maintain the fire while I set up the table. But instead he put his bag on the table and started to show me the tools that he had with him.

He grabbed a big hand saw and put it on the table before taking out two knives. One of them was very big.
Switzerland's law regarding knives is permissive, in my opinion.

I was surprised to see this kind of knife because we were only on a three hour hike, we weren't staying there overnight, nor were we hunting.

So I decided to pull the knife out of the knife holster that I had attached to my belt, and planned to get some wood myself.

After I drew my knife, Bert looked at me, and with a surprised tone he asked, Oh, you brought a knife too? Immediately my mind started racing. What was that supposed to mean?

Why did it seem like me having a knife wasn't part of his plan?

Bert then suddenly left to go get the branches that I asked for, and I got this uneasy feeling. It was like my whole body was suddenly put into alert mode.
My gut was telling me that something was up.

Now, I'm used to being around dangerous people on the job, but this was much different than being in any day-to-day situation with someone who might be dangerous. At work, I'm always fully equipped.

I have a bulletproof vest, gun, and pepper spray.

Also, I'm generally with a partner. But in this instance, I was all alone with this guy in the woods, and we didn't see anyone else on the path.

From that moment on, I decided to keep both of my eyes on Bert and keep him in constant sight. I was especially watching his hands.
People tend to use their hands to cause harm.

That's something that's taught at the police academy. Moreover, I decided to establish and maintain a minimum distance between us just in case he tried to do something.

A few minutes later, Bert came back and set down all of the branches that he had gathered from nearby trees. His knife was still in his hand.

He looked straight at me, clutching the knife, and stood there. Then he suddenly said, I'm sorry.

His tone felt empty and void of emotion. I immediately got up and looked at him.
I was sure that he was about to run at me and do something bad, so I got a rush of adrenaline.

Then he started to mumble something and I could barely understand it. I just remember hearing him say, We're both in the woods alone.

We got knives. I'm sorry.

I had no idea what was going on. What did he mean? Why was he acting so strange?

He then said, let's hug.

This put me on even higher alert.

I just stood there wondering, why does he want to get close to me while holding the knife in his hand? Is he about to try to do something bad? Why is he insisting on a hug out of nowhere?

I quickly calmed my mind down, and I knew that I needed to get out of this situation right away, but I also needed to do this in a way that didn't didn't raise any suspicion from him.

I just wanted to leave and go home so badly.

I finally replied like nothing odd was going on. Hey, no worries, man.
Let's make a fire and eat something so that we can get back home before we get completely wet.

I opted out of mentioning anything about the hug to him, and I didn't want him to get any closer to me, so I asked him to get more branches since the ones he initially got were too wet to use.

As he went to gather more branches, I decided that the rainy conditions were going to be my out.

After he came back I told him that the fire starters weren't working well in the rain and suggested that we pack up our stuff and head back to the parking area.

I could tell that he felt skeptical and disappointed about this, but he agreed.

So we packed everything up and made our way out of there.

I wasn't interested in talking to him on our way back, but I also didn't want him to think that something was off, so I just kept talking like everything was normal.

From that moment, his tone changed. He acted colder towards me.
So I never took my eyes off of him. After all, we were still alone in the woods.

Once we got back to the parking area, where I finally saw other people, he asked me if I could give him a ride. Just then I told him I was getting an urgent call from someone and needed to leave.

I apologized and told him that I couldn't give him a ride, and then got into my car and left.

After all of that, I kept asking myself, was he trying to do something?

Was he just anxious about the situation? Even though we knew each other and even partied together, maybe he felt nervous.

In any case, we were alone in a remote place that he knew better than me, and he was a really smart guy.

I'm still confused about about this situation to this day.

She's been thinking about this sleepover all week, but I think about her food allergies all the time. Fortunately, her doctor prescribed Zola, Omalizumab.

It's proven to significantly significantly reduce allergic reactions if a food allergy accident happens.

Zolair 150 milligrams is a prescription medication used to treat food allergy in people one year of age and older to reduce allergic reactions due to accidental exposure to one or more foods.

While taking Zolair, you should continue to avoid all foods to which you are allergic. Don't use if you are allergic to Zolair.

Zolair may cause a severe, life-threatening allergic reaction called anaphylaxis. Tell your doctor if you ever had anaphylaxis.

Get help right away if you have trouble breathing or if you have swelling of your throat or tongue.

Zolair should not be used for the emergency treatment of allergic reactions, reactions, including anaphylaxis.

Zolair is for maintenance use to reduce allergic reactions, including anaphylaxis, while avoiding food allergens.

Serious side effects such as cancer, fever, muscle aches, and rash, parasitic infection, or heartened circulation problems have been reported. Please see Zolair.com for full prescribing information.

Ask an allergist about Zolair. This is an advertisement for Zolair paid for by Genentech and Novartis.

Este di siempre de horos el los obtén gratis doser ramientas de Walt, craftsman o cobalt al comprana batería o un kit selecto. Y ahora quarrentadolar es en el ramientas craftsman V20 selectas.

Los, nosotros ayubamos, tu ahoras. Validos a dos 20 cuatros hagutar existencia selección varía por lugar.
Visita tu Los Mastercano and East Tarquez Avenue in Sunnyvale.

You really want to be better with your finances. You try to put money away in savings, you look for deals, you wrote out a budget once, a long time ago.

You still overdraft from time to to time and you still have debt. The truth is, managing money is not easy, but Rocket Money can help.
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From there, the app helps you make a budget that meets your financial goals. The app even gives you real-time alerts when you're about to go over your budget so you don't spend too much.

With Rocket Money, you can also see all your subscriptions at a glance and cancel the ones you don't want right from the app.

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This happened shortly before weed was legalized in Germany. In Berlin, regulation was already quite loose.

As long as you didn't explicitly bother anyone, you usually wouldn't get arrested for smoking in public. I've been smoking daily for years, which I know isn't great, but that's beside the point.

Due to my usage, I can function pretty well while stoned. However, I almost never smoke in public, partly to avoid getting into any trouble, but mostly because I prefer the comfort of my own home.

One late night, at around 3 a.m., I was hanging out online, chatting with some friends.

I was ready to call it a day, since I wanted to relax with the joint and one of my favorite shows, but unfortunately, I had no snacks left.

Determined to end the night with a proper munchie session, I decided to hit up a nearby convenience store. At that hour, only the sketchiest ones are still open, often operating illegally.

I grabbed my coat and keys, but stopped short before leaving. Why not add a little joy to this cold late night walk? I thought, as I finished rolling a joint.

I lit it as soon as I stepped outside, braving the freezing breeze. The area that I live in is pretty rough.
Crime and violence are all too common.

Even so I was in good spirits as I strolled toward the neon sign of the convenience store flickering in the distance. I was just one intersection away.

As I approached the corner, I noticed a group of men standing there. They looked a bit older than me and watched me as I walked by.
Nothing felt weird.

They're nothing to worry about, I thought, already a little high. And I crossed the street without giving it much thought.

Then I heard a voice call out, Routine ID check. Show your identification, please.

My heart sank. Of course, this has to happen the one time I'm smoking out in public, I thought, as I turned to face the police.
But this wasn't the police.

It was the group of men from the intersection now slowly approaching me.

Routine ID check. Please show me your ID.
We're undercover cops, one of them said with this smug grin.

You know smoking weed is illegal, don't you? the man continued. This man's pupils were enormous, like saucers.
It was obvious that these guys had no authority whatsoever, but they began to circle me.

Show us what you got in your pockets, one of them demanded.

Oh, so this is a robbery, I thought.

I figured as long as I didn't resist, maybe I'd only lose my phone and a few bills that I brought to pay for snacks. But then a wave of dread hit me.
My weekly tips, about 300 euros in cash.

They were stuffed in my pocket. I had forgotten to deposit that cash earlier.
I knew that losing that money would crush my tight budget for the month.

As I slowly reached into my pocket, the leader of this gang pressed, what's taking so long?

I pulled out an old pack of gum and some broken headphones, hoping to satisfy them, but he insisted, I need your ID, where's your wallet?

I continued fumbling, feeling too stubborn to hand over my tips, and then something shocking was inadvertently revealed. I caught the glint of a Glock tucked into his belt.

Knives and metal rods are typical weapons here, but a gun?

That's insane. Even by local standards.
German gun laws are incredibly strict.

My adrenaline spiked, so I cautiously pulled out the five Euros that I had planned to use for snacks as I tried to keep my expression neutral.

You've got no wallet? he growled, his face darkening. Meanwhile, my brain screamed at me to do something, anything, before this escalated any further.

Then a desperate thought flashed through my mind. Many residents in this area had a well-known fear of Russians, so I figured I could use this knowledge to my advantage.

In a heavy Russian accent, I told them that my friends have my wallet. They're coming soon.
We're meeting here.

To my my surprise their poor English comprehension worked in my favor. They exchanged glances, muttering in German, and decided to wait.

I forced myself to look confused, maintaining the bluff, and it worked. Their effort to translate or figure me out must have seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

The leader finally pointed at my five Euros and said, All right, then, go get us something to drink.

Reluctantly I followed them to the convenience store. They grabbed a six pack of Coke.
I paid, heart pounding.

I was certain that this wasn't over. I thought that they'd either search me themselves or retaliate when my non-existent friends didn't show up.
But then, just like that, they left.

No violence, no further questions, nothing. I stood there in shock, unable to process what had just happened.
Looking back, I can't believe I committed to a bluff in such a dangerous situation.

It could have been my last day on earth, and it only would have cost three hundred Euros.

I've learned my lesson. These days I avoid walking around late at night when the streets are empty.

So to those guys from that night, let's not meet again.

This happened over a decade ago when I was twelve. I live in a small town in Oklahoma, and in my neighborhood, houses are fairly spread apart, separated by the woods.

It was a school day, so my grandma picked me up from school and brought me home. This was the first year that I was dropped off at my house and left alone for a bit after school.

Before this, I would go to my grandma's house until my parents were off of work.

I was always dropped off at around 3 p.m. and my parents got home at around 4.30, so it wasn't too long that I was alone.
It wasn't that big of a deal.

On this particular day, for some reason, my dad wasn't going to be home until later, around 7.

Also, my mom, who was a teacher, was going to be home even later, at 8, since she had parent-teacher conferences at school. This was early fall, so it wasn't getting dark until about 8:30.

So I did what I usually did when I got home. I ran upstairs, got on my Xbox, and played Minecraft with my friends.
On this day, it was just me and my friend Seth.

I was playing Minecraft for about two hours when I heard a car door shut in my driveway.

No one was supposed to be there until 7 p.m., so with my mic still on and controller in hand, I went over to my bedroom window to see who it was.

I remember thinking, maybe dad got home earlier than expected.

When I looked outside, I saw a red truck. No one that I know drives a red truck, but whoever this was pulled in diagonally, all spread out like they owned the place.

Then I saw a man wearing a hat and a big camo hoodie with some jeans approaching the house. It was September, so no one would have been wearing a big hoodie and jeans in Oklahoma.

By the time I saw him he was already almost out of view, going up my walkway to my front door.

I thought that maybe it was one of my dad's friends or someone that my dad hired to do something, but he would usually tell me if someone was going to be coming over.

Soon after this, I heard a knock at the door. Then another.

So I went to my other window, which had a better view of the walkway, up to the front door.

I saw the guy walking back down the walkway, so I quickly switched back to the other window that overlooked the driveway. I was still mic'd up on the X-Box, so I relayed all of this to Seth.

I told Seth that the unknown man was walking back to his truck, but instead of getting into the truck, he walked past it and then tried to open the side door of the garage.

My heart sank as I told Seth that this guy was now trying to get into my house. Mind you, it was still broad daylight.
It was only 5 p.m.

I was thankful that the door was locked because sometimes we forgot to lock it.

After he tried the side door, he walked to my back patio, so I dropped my headset and quietly ran downstairs to see what he was doing.

When I got there, I made sure to stand behind the wall so I wouldn't be visible from the back door and living room windows. I just stood still and listened.

I then heard him trying to open the back door.

Then I heard a thud.

It sounded like he'd dropped a brick on the ground or something.

At this point, I was more scared than I had ever been in my life. I wanted to call my parents or grandma, but I didn't have a cell phone yet.
The only phone in the house was in the kitchen.

I would have to cross my living room to get there, and this man would have been able to see me if I went over there.

A few seconds after the thud, I peeked around the corner and he was gone.

I then ran back upstairs, put my headset back on, and told Seth that the guy tried to open the back door as well. As I was telling him this, I heard a car door shut.

This time, when I looked out the window, I saw that he had finally gotten back into his truck.

As he sat in the truck, I took a closer look at it and noticed the only things he had in his truck bed were a crowbar and a shovel.

He sat in his truck for what felt like just a few minutes, but during this time, Seth told me to get my iPod and take a picture of his license plate.

But since he pulled in diagonally, I couldn't see it.

Then he reversed out of my driveway and drove down the road. A few minutes after I was sure that he was gone, I went downstairs to see what the thud could have been.

When I got to the back door, I could see that the doormat had been moved. Both of the big plant pots had been moved as well.

That told me that he was looking for a key.

We have a key hidden back there.

The key to the back door was under one of the smaller plant pots on a ledge near the door, not the bigger ones that he had checked under.

And when I went to the front porch, I could tell that all of the pots there looked like they had been touched as well.

I don't know what I would have done if he were able to find a key or if he just broke in. After he left, I called my dad and told him what happened.

When my dad got home, he had a police officer come over, over and I told him what happened and gave them a description.

I don't know who the guy was, but he never came back.

She's been thinking about this sleepover all week, but I think about her food allergies all the time. Fortunately, her doctor prescribed Zolar, Omalizumab.

It's proven to significantly reduce allergic reactions if a food allergy accident happens.

Zolair 150 milligrams is a prescription medication used to treat food allergy in people one year of age and older to reduce allergic reactions due to accidental exposure to one or more foods.

While taking Zolair, you should continue to avoid all foods to which you are allergic. Don't use if you are allergic to Zolair.

Zolair may cause a severe, life-threatening allergic reaction called anaphylaxis. Tell your doctor if you ever had anaphylaxis.

Get help right away if you have trouble breathing or if you have swelling of your throat or tongue. Zolair should not be used for the emergency treatment of allergic reactions, including anaphylaxis.

Zolair is for maintenance use to reduce allergic reactions, including anaphylaxis, while avoiding food allergens.

Serious side effects such as cancer, fever, muscle aches, and rash, parasitic infection, or heartened circulation problems have been reported. Please see Zolair.com for full prescribing information.

Ask an allergist about Zolair. This is an advertisement for Zolair paid for by Genentech and Novartis.

Este di siempre de horos elos obtén gratis dos ramientas de valt, craftsman o cobalt al compran una batería o un kit selecto. Yá ahora quarrentadolar es en ramientas craftsman V20 selectas.

Los, nosotros ayudamos, tu ahorras. Validos a dos 20 catros sagotar existencia selección varía por lugar.
Visita tu los mastercano en Isarques Avenue in Sunnyvale.

You really want to be better with your finances. You try to put money away in savings.
You look for deals. You wrote out a budget once a long time ago.

Yet you still overdraft from time to time and you still have debt. The truth is, managing money is not easy, but Rocket Money can help.
Rocket Money shows you exactly what you're spending every month.

From there, the app helps you make a budget that meets your financial goals. The app even gives you real-time alerts when you're about to go over your budget so you don't spend too much.

With Rocket Money, you can also see all of your subscriptions at a glance and cancel the ones you don't want right from the app.

Rocket Money can even try to get you a refund for some of the money you wasted. Plus, you can use the Smart Savings feature to start putting more money away.

Rocket Money analyzes your accounts to determine the optimal time to stow away cash without going over your budget. Our members report that the Rocket Money app saved them more than $700 a year.

Getting better with money doesn't have to be a pipe dream. Rocket Money can make it a reality.
Go to rocketmoney.com/slash cancel or download the app from the Apple app or Google Play Stores.

For context, this happened to me years ago when I was about 13 years old. I grew up in a safe, quiet, middle-class neighborhood in a mid-sized western city.

This was back when I still bought into organized religion, and I was going to an overnight lock-in at the church. For anyone unfamiliar, a lock-in is a mass Jesus-focused sleepover for teens.

The church was only a 10-minute walk from my house, and the quickest way to get there was to cut across a park right next to the elementary school.

This was in the early 2000s, so I definitely grew up in the age of stranger danger and learned to always be vigilant.

I was also very responsible for my age, so my parents approved of letting me walk the short distance to the church by myself, and then they would drop by later with my sleeping bag and pillow after they picked up my little brother.

I was running a little late, so the sun was just starting to set as I approached the park. As I crunched across the grass next to some tennis courts, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.

I turned my head and saw a figure, clearly a man, dressed in dark clothing and leaning against a brick wall.

He was tucked into an alcove where the building met the fence around the playground, out of sight from the road.

The man was standing just outside the halo of light that cast from the street lamp above. He was just lingering there, by the wall near the fence.

What initially caught my eye was the flicker of a lit cigarette in his mouth. It was too dark for me to see his features, but I could tell, as I noticed him, that he was already watching me.

He was a fair distance away across the grass, but it was just an open space between us. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could feel them on me, and I felt an uneasy tingle creep down my spine.

I suddenly realized that I was alone, and it was getting darker.

Instead of continuing to cut diagonally across the park, I veered to the right towards the sidewalk and the street so that I wouldn't be too close to him.

I walked a little faster to try and shake off my uneasiness. I kept telling myself, you're just being silly.
The first time I glanced back, he hadn't moved, though I could still feel him watching me.

As I left the grass of the park and approached the street corner, I briefly felt relieved. I was back under the street lamps, which all flickered on by now.

I only had three or four short blocks to go until I was at the church, so I glanced back once more to reassure myself that I had worried for no reason, expecting to see nothing.

By now, the man should have been completely out of view. Instead, I felt a pit of dread in my stomach.

It turned to acidic fear when I realized that the man was halfway across the park now walking in my direction.

I immediately crossed to the other side of the street and began to walk faster. At this point, I could feel the adrenaline rushing through me.

I didn't have any real words or images to describe what I thought could happen to me, so a jumble of news snippets and vague fears about what happens to young girls who go out alone at night reeled through my head.

And yet, I was still trying to convince myself that it could just be a coincidence.

After another block, I looked back again as I approached the next corner. The man had reached the edge of the park, and instead of walking straight ahead, he too had crossed the street to my side.

Even worse, it seemed like he had closed in some of the distance between us,

and to my eyes, at least, he appeared to be walking faster. I immediately felt more terror.
At this point, I was convinced he was a predator, and I had made myself easy prey.

I still had two and a half blocks until I got to the church, and I was wondering whether I would ever even make it to the lock-in.

I glanced back at the man again, and he had closed the gap even further with his long legs.

I still couldn't see his face, but I had seen enough. So I turned around and started running up the street.
My backpack thumped against my back as my heart raced and my breath shallowed.

I ran all the way to the church parking lot before I even looked back again, and by the time I did, he was finally gone.

To this day I have no idea if that man was after me, or if it was just a coincidence, but I am grateful that I never had to find out one way or the other.

This happened to me in the early 80s when I was about fourteen or fifteen years old.

I lived on a quiet street in the suburbs of my city, in a small place that you wouldn't call the countryside, but it was close. I lived on a Spanish island in the Atlantic Ocean.

It was known locally back then that little girls started disappearing more often, but it wasn't yet a topic of conversation between the towns and neighborhoods.

Most of my friends lived in the city, so I would often take the bus to meet them.

On this day, in particular, at around five or six p.m., I decided to start walking to the bus stop since I was going to meet my friend that evening.

The bus stop wasn't that far from my house, maybe half a mile.

It was located on a quiet street, with very few cars or people around, and it was lined with old street lamps that flickered even in the daylight.

I had taken this route many times, so I didn't really think anything of it.

When I got to the bus stop, the street was dead without any cars or anybody to be seen around, so I just stood around for a few minutes waiting for my bus.

A while later, a white van slowly approached my direction and started slowing down next to the bus stop. This seemed unusual, but I brushed it off.

I figured maybe they were just parking or looking for something. But then two men got out and started walking towards me.

One of them looked normal enough, but the other man caught my attention because his face was slightly deformed, with one hollow eye socket where his left eye should have been.

His other eye locked on to me.

And the intensity of his gaze, it made me freeze on the spot.

Before I could even process what was happening, they got a hold of me.

One grabbed my arm with a grip so tight it felt like my bones were going to snap, and the other wrapped his arm around my waist, dragging me toward the van.

Neither of them said a word, although to be honest, their silence was worse than anything they could have said. I started screaming and kicking as hard as I could, but there was nobody around.

I remember I even started yelling, Fire, Fire, Fire, since my mom had told me it was a code for people to call out if they were getting abducted.

It was a horrible feeling getting pulled closer to the van, knowing that there wasn't anything that I could do to avoid it.

They shoved me into the van, and as I landed on the floor, this third man with a doberman had a bandana covering his face and was staring at me with this disgustingly creepy expression that still haunts me to this day.

It was at that moment that I started to think that no one would help me. I started struggling and fighting back.

I managed to kind of get them off of me for a second, but they kept grabbing me and pulling me back in. I even remember the distinctive metallic smell inside of the van.

It smelled like rust or maybe blood.

I felt like probably the luckiest person on earth when out of nowhere my older brother showed up. He didn't live with us at the time, so, coincidentally, he was probably visiting that day.

I don't remember why he was there, but he started yelling and throwing punches at the men. In the struggle, they let go of me and I managed to pull myself free and back away.

The men seemed to be caught off guard. After a few seconds of fighting, they ran back into their van, slammed the doors, and sped off.

Right after that moment, we ran home and I started crying in desperation. The walk home was hard since my legs were shaking non-stop.
I felt overwhelmed and couldn't process what had just happened.

People who have experienced something similar to this know exactly how shocked and paranoid you start to feel after this. We reported it to the police later that night, but they didn't do much.

Things like this weren't taken very seriously back then.

So, to those men in the van, let's never meet again.

I live in a medium sized southern town of about forty five thousand

people. I know all of my neighbors and those who go to the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witness three houses down.

I live on the last street within city limits, and it's a pretty quiet area where most of the residents are elderly.

The street layout is unique and essentially forms a T shape towards the end of the main road.

The Jehovah's Witness Church is on the left side of the T, and the right side of the T leads to a road that goes into town.

At the end of the road, there's a small gravel driveway that leads to underbrush and a couple of abandoned houses. I was twelve at the time, and my youngest sister was seven.

We decided to take a walk around the neighborhood one afternoon.

As we made made our way to the stop sign at the end of the tea, this older woman, who appeared to be well into her sixties or possibly her seventies, rolled out from the gravel driveway.

I instantly had an odd feeling about this woman, as it was abundantly clear that she did not live in the neighborhood.

My brotherly instincts kicked in right away, and I ordered my younger sister, despite her protest, to turn around and start marching back home, with me following close behind. behind.

The old woman slowly rolled up behind us before finally keeping pace, parallel next to us. She rolled her window down and asked for directions to some store that was in town.

I can't remember where she was trying to go specifically, but I was able to give her some basic directions.

She then proceeded to insist on having my sister and I hop into her truck so that she could give us a ride home. I politely said, Oh, no, it's okay, we're just on a walk.

She wasn't taking no for an answer, so she told us that she was a friend of our grandmother's. Oh, wow, you know me, Ma, Phyllis? my younger sister excitedly asked.

The older woman replied, Yes, Phyllis. Of course I know Phyllis.
We're good friends. Come on, get in the truck.

I politely declined again, and insisted that we wanted to continue on our walk. Then I got my sister to walk lock in step with me at a pace that I knew she could barely handle.

Meanwhile, the older woman began to yell out her window. Get in the damn truck.

She peppered this with some threats about telling Nima Phyllis about how we disobeyed an adult and said that we were awful children.

When we finally got to the front of our house, my sister and I ran as quickly as we could up the driveway and to the front porch, bursting back into the house.

My grandmother asked us how our walk was, since we were breathless, as we went back inside.

We didn't know what to say, so we fibbed and said that we were racing, and we never talked about it again.

My sister was so young when this happened, so I honestly don't believe my sister even remembers it at all.

I never saw that woman or that truck in my neighborhood after that incident, but I'm very certain that my sister and I wouldn't be around if we had jumped into her truck.

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When I was 18, I was living in a small town. I was friends with the local skaters and they helped me connect with this dude who sold weed.

The dealer was 29 at the time. His name was Max.
He gave me pretty good deals, and he lived nearby. I wasn't driving back then, so it was convenient for me.

Max has always struck me as a weird dude, but I honestly quite like his weirdness. Not in a romantic way or anything like that.
I just like weird people.

We had standard weed buying interactions where I'd buy some weed and maybe we'd smoke a bowl, but that was it. He often told me that he could drop weed off at my house, but I never let him.

I wasn't afraid of him, but his delivery offers were out of the ordinary, so they struck me as odd.

One day, in May of twenty eighteen, I was invited to a bonfire by the same skaters who introduced me to Max. I had no idea that Max was going to be there, nor was that detail important to me at all.

When it came time for the bonfire, I brought a guy that I was dating at the time along. I said hey to everyone, including Max.

Some of the people at the bonfire were playing music on their guitars, and we were there for a few hours.

At around 11 p.m., as the bonfire was winding down, Max was getting upset about something, so he threw his guitar into the bonfire.

I didn't know what he was angry or upset about, so I paid no mind to it. I was in the middle of leaving with the guy I was dating anyway.

After I got home, I went to bed. When I woke up, I saw that I had received paragraphs on paragraphs of texts, all from Max between 1 and 5 a.m.

It was a constant stream of texts that said things ranging from you knew how much I loved you to calling me disgusting names.

As I was catching up with all of his one-sided back-and-forth dialogue, his tone shifted and he said some really scary things.

Like

you are a predator and you'll be snubbed out, just wait. He also said, you are stuck.
I will either love you or hate you to the fullest extent that my powers behold.

Right now, I pray for the worst death for both of you. Max had never expressed any romantic interest or asked me out or anything, so all of this felt like it was out of nowhere.

Plus, he was 11 years older than me. I was barely eighteen, and on top of all of that, he confusingly added, losing you is like losing a mother to me.

He told me that I never loved him and that I would never hear from him again.

That night he cut all of his long hair off and posted naked photos of himself curled up in the fetal position on Facebook, captioning the photos with saying he was a statue of shame.

It was as if he had a complete breakdown. I had no intention of causing this to happen, and was perplexed that I had offended anyone by bringing the guy I was seeing to a bonfire.

About a week later, Max texted me late at night. He asked if I had seen the flowers he spread along my sidewalk.

He said that he stole every flower in the vicinity just to put them out there for me.

I hadn't seen the flowers, so I told him he probably had the wrong address. And I I told him he shouldn't do that anyway, as I had never felt anything for him, and so on.

I also asked how he knew where I lived, and he said that he had heard that I lived on the same block as another one of the skater guys.

He wasn't wrong, but the skater guy I lived near was on the other side of the block, and Max put the flowers closer to his house. I never walked down that way, so I never saw the flowers.

I ended up blocking his number right then and there, and I didn't want to hear from him again for weeks.

Weeks later, I woke up after a rough night, and there were loads of flowers on the stretch of the sidewalk right outside of my house, along with a little bouquet at the top of my walkway.

I was pissed, but I wasn't scared yet, so I impulsively unblocked his number and texted him to ask him why there were flowers outside my house. He responded, Hm, sounds nice.
It was me.

So, I then bitched him out and blocked his number.

About one week later, I was out of town and my roommate texted me a photo of a heart with a peace sign and my name written underneath it in chalk outside of our house.

When I got back to town, I immediately went to the courthouse to begin the process of obtaining a no-contact order against Max.

After I left the courthouse, I went to Max's workplace and told him he needed to stop this behavior. With no expression whatsoever, he said, If you don't leave, I'm calling the cops.

This made me angry, so I loudly snapped, go ahead, call the cops. I was just talking to them about you, and then left his workplace in a rage.

Soon after this, I ended up getting a car, so I was driving again. One day, I happened to drive by him and he saw me.

I guess he must have noted my car since it was covered in flowers when I woke up the next day.

I officially got to present my case to a judge shortly after this, and she put the stalking order into effect for me.

It was served to him by some police officers and everything, so I thought that that was that, and I assumed he wouldn't be bothering me again. But I was wrong.

After the stalking order was served, he scrawled several other chalk messages on my sidewalk along with random gifts like beheaded my little pony figures and beer bottles.

I always brought these things to the police station, but they said that I needed to catch him doing it by taking a photo or having security footage, so I got a security camera and hoped I would quickly catch him.

It turned out my security camera was awful, and I couldn't watch the activity that it captured.

I had to skip through the constant stream of footage myself, second by second, to manually look for activity. It was impossible.

I was terrified of leaving the house at night at this point. I never had my curtains open any more, and I was so frustrated that this affected my livelihood.

I finally decided to unblock his number in hopes that he would text me directly, violating the stalking order, and after a few days this worked. He sent me a weird text that said, Forgive me.

We are charming. This is harmful.
Let us try again.

Then, finally, in September of 2018, he went to jail. He was facing up to a year in jail for his violation and had to stay there until our court date.

This finally gave me some peace, since I felt safe about going outside at night again. I even let myself open the curtains sometimes.
I was starting to feel alive again.

Well, right as I was feeling secure in my small town life again, someone posted bail, and Max was released after only spending three months in jail. So, I went right back to living in fear.

But we still had court dates coming up, and I felt optimistic that he would serve more time.

His lawyer kept pushing the court date back to gather evidence, and after about six months of pushing it back, the state decided that since Max hadn't done anything else, that they could close the case.

By that point, I had moved over three hours away, so his behavior only stopped since he didn't know where I went. Ever since I've relocated to my new place, I've felt safe.

I can walk around outside at night. I don't have to have my curtains closed all the time.

It's been over a year since the case has been closed.

About a month ago, Max started responding to my friend's Instagram stories, and I'm not talking about old friends from our small town. I'm talking about new friends that are in my new town.

And he keeps reaching out to my friends to tell them how fond he is of me.

I have always had him blocked, but my account isn't private, so I think he figured out who my new friends are by lurking around there somehow.

I have since made my account private, and he hasn't messaged any other friends of mine. I refuse to be fearful anymore, because I never want to be as fearful as I was then ever again.

However, my life is forever changed due to this experience. I'll always be more tuned in to people and their energy.

I'll always close my curtains early in the evening and make sure that all my windows and doors are locked. So, Max, let's never meet again.

Thanks for listening. Stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended version of this week's episode.

If you'd like to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today, where you'll get access to ad-free versions of all of our episodes at a higher bitrate, plus extended bonus content with stories you won't hear anywhere else every single week.

Again, that's patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. This week you have heard Creepy Hike in the Woods by Noctomo, I Was Almost Robbed or Killed Trying to Buy Snacks by Graf Coax,

Home Alone Story by Pand,

The Glow of a Cigarette at Dusk by The Spectre at the Feast.

That time time I almost got kidnapped by Haven Hale. Pushy grandma really wanted me and my sister to get in her truck by Overseer 111.
And finally, my weed dealer turned creepy. Very creepy.

By Mother of Hendrix. 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.

Send your stories in to let'snotmeetstories at gmail.com if you'd like to hear them on the show.

Finally, make sure sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, My True Paranormal Podcast, Cryptic Encounters, and the old-time radio cast, wherever you get your podcasts.

I'll see you all next week, everyone. Stay safe.

I started listening to this podcast a couple of years ago. It was introduced to me by my best friend.

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