13x23: Pizza Shop Creep
Creepy Dude at the Pizza Shop | shit-takes-only (0:40)
Weird Encounter with a Local when Traveling | this_taken_too (8:06)
“I’m Not Going to Hurt You” | Catlatadipdat (17:01)
Fine, Keep Your Rent Money | Cat-lady-1995 (21:42)
Southern Illinois Strangeness | kmartpolice (26:57)
Always Lock Your Car doors | _Nitushi_143 (33:09)
What Was He Going To Do? | twopickett (36:35)
Sleeping in a Car is not Always Best… | Wildboi647 (40:30)
The Hike | Michele_Rose23 (46:07)
Extended Patreon Content:
He Let Go | Omg It's Z-Man
The Priest | Breen
A Story From My Mother | Prabo
The Purse on the Porch | Susan Gammel
Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate.
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Transcript
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We all have that piece.
The one that's so you you've basically become known for it.
And if you don't yet, Fashionistas, you'll find it on eBay.
That Mew Mew red leather bomber, the Custo Barcelona cowboy top, or that Patagonia fleece in the 2017 colorway.
All these finds are all on eBay.
Along with millions of more main character pieces backed by authenticity guarantee, eBay is the place for pre-loved and vintage fashion.
eBay, things people love.
This podcast contains adult language and content.
Listener discretion is advised.
If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not MeetStories at gmail.com.
Enjoy the show.
This happened a couple of years ago.
I was driving home from work and decided that I wanted pizza, so I pulled into a pizza shop near home.
It was a Saturday night, and the shop was pretty busy and staffed by three young girls.
When I say young girls, I mean teenagers.
I'm not sure how it is elsewhere in the world, but working at a pizza shop here in Australia is very much considered an after-school type of job.
As I was ordering, the girl taking the order was very distracted.
It was like she was looking past me at something.
Then, as I tried to pay, she yelled out to the other two girls prepping and cooking in the back, saying something like, oh, thank God, Matt is back.
Matt is a pseudonym for privacy reasons, but I also don't remember the name that she actually said.
As she said that, a delivery boy entered the pizza shop, but pretty much just came in, grabbed more pizza, did a one eighty, and left to complete more deliveries.
I paid and then I went to sit and wait.
That's when I saw what the girl had been looking at behind me.
Standing next to the entry door, peering through the front windows of the pizza shop, was a visibly terrifying man.
He appeared to be about five eight, in his late twenties or early thirties.
He was rat-like, almost unnaturally pale, with dark spots under his eyes.
He had long, greasy, dark hair and these sharp looking teeth that were nearly cylindrical.
Obviously, I got a bad feeling, but my initial reaction was just confusion at the sight of him.
Anyway, another guy came in to pick up some pizzas right as I sat down, and the girl at the register froze while serving him as well.
But this time she apologized and explained, Sorry, I'm a bit distracted because that guy out there just won't stop coming by to stare at me through the window.
My boss banned him, but he always comes back when he's gone.
I took a proper look at the guy in the window after she said that, and he was pointing at her while waving and making other weird gestures.
This instantly made me very uncomfortable, so, without really thinking, I went outside and confronted the guy about what he was doing.
I had a fair bit of adrenaline as I did this, so I don't remember what I said exactly, but it was something along the lines of you have to leave, you're scaring the workers.
He just stared at me and did this weird wheeze in exasperation.
It was like a dismissive wheeze.
Then, through a wheezy voice, he replied, I'm not doing anything.
I said, you're being a creep, and you've already been banned.
You got to get out of here.
Then I went back in and the creep walked off.
So I thought that it was all sorted out.
The girl thanked me and asked what he said.
I explained that he didn't really say anything, and she echoed the same things that she said to the other customer, but also added that the creepy man had said some inappropriate and gross things to her.
She also said that the guy had found her on Facebook and was sending her creepy messages.
I told her to make sure that her parents knew about this and to tell the police.
Just as I was sitting back down, the creepy guy returned and came into the pizza shop with a bank card in his hand.
I then said, What did I tell you?
Get out of here.
But he made a beeline straight to the counter and ordered a pizza.
The girl froze up, but she took his order and put it through to the kitchen since she feared how he would react if she didn't.
He then sat down right next to me and said
See, if she didn't want me in here, she wouldn't have let me get a pizza.
If it gets a bit hazy for me here, it's because this is where the trauma happened.
I'm pretty sure that the next thing that happened was me telling him I was disgusted, and he got really angry.
Then he stood up, bent forward toward me, and screamed, I haven't done anything wrong.
What did I do?
I'm a good boy.
I've got a good heart, so tell me, tell me what I did.
How would you feel if someone said that you were disgusting?
Even though I saw exactly what he had been doing and the effect that it had on the teenage girl at the counter, he made me feel like I was wrong for telling him to stop.
He then got closer to me and then continued yelling.
He was fully raging out, and I wasn't sure what he was going to do next, so I just kept my eyes locked on his hands and tried to look like I wasn't afraid of him.
I kept myself focused on anticipating a potential incoming act of violence.
He just kept shrieking and screaming.
Then the oldest of the workers came out from the kitchen and said, You've got to stop yelling.
If you're going to yell, you have to leave.
He did stop yelling.
In In fact, his whole demeanor suddenly changed.
Now he was calmer.
He even put his fist out to fist bump me, as he said, You're a good guy, I can tell,
or something like that.
I wouldn't fist bump him, so he sat back down.
Then he started talking at me, blabbering all kinds of shit.
I wasn't really listening, and I told him that I didn't want to talk to him.
All the while, the girl that he had been targeting was just staring with these big, freaked-out eyes.
They fast-tracked his pizza and tried to send him on his way.
And when he was out in front of the pizza shop, he started talking to this really big guy and pointing at me through the window.
I spoke to the girl and she thanked me profusely, even though I didn't really do anything.
But someone had to do something since none of the male co-workers were at the shop.
It turns out that the big guy in the front of the shop was the owner.
The girl had called him since the creep was in the store.
Since he was distracted with me, she scurried off and called the owner before returning to the counter.
After the owner talked to the creep, this guy let out the longest, most guttural, and rage-filled scream.
I'm guessing that his ban had been explained to him yet again.
I do genuinely worry that maybe the other employees weren't taking the guy's behavior and fixation on this teenage girl as the dangerous threat that it was.
This man was unreasonable and irrational, and he was all around the scariest person I had encountered for a while.
He just had this energy to him, this juvenile malignancy.
So, who knows what he was capable of.
This happened two years ago, and the more I think about it, the weirder it gets.
I'm a female, and when I was 21, I traveled to Istanbul on my own to enjoy a couple of days to myself after finals.
On the day that I got there, I left the hotel at about 5 p.m.
to find something to eat.
As I stepped out, a local greeted me on the street and I said hello back.
He asked me if I was on vacation since I have the typical East Asian look and I clearly wasn't a local.
We briefly shared some small talk and just when I decided to return to going about my way, he offered to show me around town and invited me to dinner since he wanted me to have a real local experience.
Prior to my trip, I had read a lot about scammers in Istanbul, and I was almost certain that he was one of them, so I politely said no.
Then this was where things started to change.
His demeanor shifted and he seemed upset that I declined.
He even somberly said,
I thought you looked like a nice person.
I just wanted to help make your vacation memorable and good.
He appeared to be in his forties or fifties, and he was polite and sounded very very sincere, so guilt got the better of me and I gave in and agreed to let him walk me around town.
As we walked, he actually shared some interesting things about Istanbul.
I genuinely enjoyed our conversation, which is saying something since I'm typically a huge introvert, so it's rare for me to feel that way.
I also opened up a bit, and he showed quite an interest in my studies and trip.
He was getting comfortable with me as well, and showed me pictures of his two teenage sons.
I kept feeling my guard lowering as people on the street kept greeting him like old friends along the way.
He also kept telling me that he thought I was beautiful and how honored he was to show me around.
I know this already sounds super weird, but it was easy for me to get caught up since I have a really low self-image and nobody ever really tells me that I'm beautiful or pretty or anything like that.
As As we kept walking, he asked me if I had ever experienced a luxurious, relaxing Turkish steambath.
I didn't hear him clearly, so I said no.
Then he said that he knew of a very good place that was run by a woman who he said was the best in town.
He told me if I was interested, I had to give it a try.
The truth was, I was interested in getting a Turkish steam bath, but going with him to a bathhouse felt weird.
He elaborated on this place in particular, and said only locals knew about it, so it seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I also have a very difficult time refusing other people's offers due to my cultural upbringing, so I said yes.
He then told me that the place he was referring to was a couple of minutes away by car, and showed me his car parked on the road.
Now I know what you must be thinking, but this was my first time travelling abroad abroad on my own.
I was eager to prove to my parents that I could do this, so I got into the car.
I sat shotgunned because he insisted.
At least before I got in, I snuck a photo of his car plate and his face and sent it to my parents.
I told them about meeting this man and going to this steam bath place.
I let them know that I was fine and told them to keep an eye out for an update just in case.
Once I was in his car, he kept repeating that I was beautiful and asked me if it was okay if he called me Rose, since he thought that I looked just like a rose.
He also asked whether I had a boyfriend or not.
I told him I was only interested in girls.
He said he understood different people had different preferences and told me that I should perceive him as a woman so that I would feel more at ease.
Then he asked me for my hand, and after I placed my hand in his, he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it.
As he continued holding my hand, he said that he was really glad that he met me.
Along the way, he said that this place only took cash, so we drove to an ATM to get some money.
Before withdrawing the cash, he showed me the cost of this place.
It was on a brochure that he had in his car.
It was 185 euros for an hour and a half.
I had no idea idea what the normal price for such a thing would be, but I knew that there was no way I was going to spend my parents' money on this, so, at the ATM, I deliberately only took out 300 lira, and I pretended that I didn't understand the exchange rate.
Then he told me that this place often charges extra for tourists, and suggested that I give him the money so that he could tell the place that I was his guest and wouldn't be charged extra.
When I handed him the three hundred lira, he asked, Is this a joke?
The cost would have ended up being over 2500 lira, but I acted surprised and just said that I didn't want to go any more.
This upset him greatly.
He kept telling me that he had already called his friend to prepare a steam bath for us, and I was missing out big.
He told me that I should pay for dinner for him to make up for the cancellation fee and gas money.
He then told me that he wasn't angry with me, he was just upset that I was missing the perfect opportunity for an authentic local experience.
Then he kissed my hand again and insisted on continuing to hold my hand since he, quote, wanted to ensure me that he wasn't mad and he still loves me, unquote.
Yes, he used the word love.
He chose a very upscale seafood restaurant where he insisted on ordering for me since the waiter didn't understand English.
The dinner ended up costing 4,000 lira.
After I made it clear that I wasn't going to the local bar with him, he offered to drive me back to my hotel.
I had him drop me off near the road where my hotel was because there was no way in hell I was going to let him know which hotel I was actually staying at.
I'm not sure if he was a scammer trying to trick me into visiting expensive commercial places, just an overly passionate local citizen, or a predator seeking out females, but I'm glad I never saw him again after that.
The whole situation left me at a loss and feeling confused.
Today, we're exploring deep in the North American wilderness among nature's wildest plants, animals, and
cows.
Uh, you're actually on an Organic Valley dairy farm where nutritious, delicious, organic food gets its start.
But there's so much nature.
Exactly.
Organic Valley small family farms protect the land and the plants and animals that call it home.
Extraordinary.
Sure is.
Organic Valley, protecting where your food comes from.
Learn more about their delicious dairy at ov.coop.
I'm a thirty-three-year-old male, and my husband is forty-three.
This happened a few years ago when he and I were getting gas one night.
We were at at a bit of a weird gas station where two roads intersected at an angle with the gas station being on the acute angle, if you can picture that.
At the pump we chose there were no working lights so it was difficult to see directly from either road.
We were driving a soft top Jeep Wrangler with the rear windows completely taken off.
My husband got out of our Jeep to pump the gas and I was sitting in the passenger seat looking at my my phone.
That's when I heard I'm not going to hurt you, from a voice some distance behind me.
I was terrified, so I suddenly froze.
I turned around to look at the empty space where our back window used to be, and saw what appeared to be a man not too far away.
He had slightly wild grey hair, a washed out beanie, and an oversized jacket with a lot of pockets that hid his hands.
I suddenly realized how dark it was and how hard it was for anyone to see us, and I couldn't see his hands.
I had a distinct feeling from deep down, so prominent that I could almost hear it.
The feeling was saying run.
But I figured we were just pumping gas, and he was just some weird dude.
My husband and I were from Key West, so we had seen plenty of strange people before, and they were almost always harmless, so I slowly turned back around and went back to my phone.
Yet I still heard him, the distinct sound of shuffling feet, the rustle of his jacket.
I'm not going to hurt you, he repeated.
I just need some help.
I'm not going to hurt you.
At this point, I could tell that he was almost at the Jeep.
We had only been there a couple of minutes, and the tank was almost empty, so I knew there was no way that my husband was anywhere near getting the tank back to full.
Then without warning, my husband rushed back into the car and hurried to start the engine.
I could tell that his hands were shaking.
He managed to throw the car into drive and we peeled out of there.
I looked behind us and I saw the man standing there, not reacting, right next to the dangling gas nozzle that my husband didn't even bother hanging back up.
As we turned out of the gas station, my husband said,
I just had the most horrible feeling.
Something told me we had to run.
I looked at him and told him I felt the same thing.
I felt tears coming to my eyes as I thanked him for listening to his instincts.
When we got home, we were feeling quite shaken as we went over the events that we had just seen and the fear that we had felt.
A day or two later, we watched a YouTube video featuring a security analyst named Scott Stewart.
The video was about the Kenyon Mall shooting, and he said that during events like this, sometimes people say things like, right before it happened, I had a terrible feeling that something bad was going to happen.
He adds that some people listen to that feeling and leave the area while others mention how they regret not listening to it.
I burst into tears hearing this, knowing the feeling that he had described all too well.
I had had that feeling and was one of those who ignored it.
I remember saying thank you to my husband for listening to his sense of danger.
Now it's fully possible that this was just a harmless person trying to get help in a slightly creepy way, and it's possible that nothing bad would have happened, but I can't stop remembering how the weird angles of the road and the lack of lighting would have prevented anyone from seeing us if something had gone down.
I also can't stop thinking about how the man kept his hands hidden.
I still get chills remembering him saying, I'm not going to hurt you over and over again for some reason.
The moral of the story is, I guess, if you ever get that distinct feeling that something bad is imminent, leave the area.
It may be a false alarm, but it's better than going through the rest of your life wishing you had listened to that feeling.
I'm a property manager and one year postpartum, so I returned to my company part-time.
It's fun because I get to float around to different apartment communities and just help out where it's needed.
In September, I helped out a property about an hour from my house.
It's a bit of a drive, but it's a fairly small property with no big problems, so I figured it was easy money for the day.
I was covering for the manager out on vacation, and it was the sixth of the month, which meant that I was handing out late payment letters and making calls, unfortunately.
It's definitely not my favorite part of the job, but I guess it is necessary.
The one thing I hate about floating around to different communities is that the residents don't know me well, so it feels a little strange delivering late letters and calling people who don't even know me.
On this day, I had about ten late letters to deliver.
All was going normal and fine.
Some people answered the door and said, Yep, sorry, I'll have it paid on such and such date.
Meanwhile, one other person didn't answer, so I left a note on the door, but they flipped me off as I was walking away.
All pretty normal stuff that comes with the job.
When I got down to about the seventh or eighth person, I walked up to this apartment and could tell from the outside that the occupants had absolutely destroyed this home.
It smelled like cigarettes, cat urine, and general mustiness before I even knocked.
All the blinds were broken on the front window, and there were blankets tacked up to the window.
The works.
I went up to the door and gave it a quick knock.
I waited for about five seconds before getting ready to post a notice on the door.
Right as I was folding it up and putting it on the door, the door partially swung open.
A gentleman wearing boxers with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth opened opened the door, but didn't unlatch the security lock, so it couldn't be opened all the way.
What do you want?
he asked, giving me this death glare.
He was also looking me up and down inappropriately at the same time.
I explained that I was just there to deliver a late letter, and that I'd be on my way.
As I explained this, I noticed that he kept looking over his shoulder as if someone were standing next to him or behind the door.
I found this odd.
It was as if someone were hiding from me.
This was confirmed since the gentleman in the boxers wouldn't open the door all the way, and when I then heard whispering, I was sure that he was covertly communicating with someone.
The gentleman in the doorway asked me to wait and said that he had some things in his apartment that needed to be looked at.
I explained that I was only there to deliver the letter and said that he could send photos to the office and I would get the work orders put in.
Then he began complaining about our maintenance team and stated that he wanted someone to take a look at the stuff that needed repairs in person.
At this point, I was feeling really uneasy.
Typically, I would enter and help with no problem, but between the looks that this guy was giving me and the creepy unknown person behind the door, I wasn't feeling safe to do so.
I deferred again, trying to make myself sound unimportant, as I said I was just the floating employee who couldn't do anything without a manager's approval, so there was no point in having me take a look.
Then something caught my eye upstairs.
I saw a window blind move, revealing two additional men, who were both staring down at me.
I was so uneasy, I could have been sick at that moment.
I told the guy that I wouldn't be entering without maintenance or the property manager present, due to it it being an ongoing maintenance concern.
As I said, there wasn't anything that I could personally do.
He looked annoyed before finally slamming the door in my face.
I went back to the office and grabbed the maintenance supervisor to chat things over regarding this encounter.
The maintenance supervisor explained that there used to be an old man who lived in that apartment, but his son took over the lease after he died.
He told me that he's noticed a lot of strange activity in individuals around that home ever since the dad died, but he hasn't witnessed anything illegal, so he's always just let it go.
He explained how he planned to have them move once the lease is up, due to the condition of the home, anyway.
While I can't prove something horrible was going to happen if I entered the premises, this is by far the creepiest encounter that I've had in property management for the past seven years.
In late April 2022, a few friends and I were on a road trip through southern Illinois.
We passed by Shawnee National Forest and stopped at the Trigg Observation Tower.
After soaking in the beautiful view and smoking a few joints with a random stoner couple that we met along the way, we parted ways with our smoke buddies and headed out toward the campsite for the night.
It was getting late, and we were driving down these back roads as the sun was setting.
The area that we were in was pretty isolated.
Incredibly thick woods flanked both sides of the road, and there weren't any other cars in sight.
That's when we saw a light up ahead, just barely visible through the thick brush.
We slowed down thinking that it was some campers getting set up for the night, or some hikers who got lost before sundown.
But as we approached something seemed off.
The light emanated from this old camper van, and it was apparent that this thing hadn't moved in months.
Vines were slowly creeping up over the canopy.
The whole set up screamed abandoned.
We looked back to have a second look, trying to determine whether the illumination was coming from a fire or something inside the van.
At first glance, we didn't see anyone as we surveyed the area, but when our eyes panned over, there he was, just feet away from the camper,
half hiding behind a tree.
He was shirtless, only in coverall pants and hiking boots.
He was staring at us and didn't reply when we shouted a hello.
As he began to walk in our direction, he had one hand hidden behind his back as if he were hiding something.
We called out again to see if he needed assistance or knew where the campsite was, but he just kept coming, silent and expressionless.
We didn't wait to see what he was actually up to, so we got right back into the car and flew out of there, dust and rocks kicking up as we took off down the road.
We were pretty shaken up by the time we finally pulled into our campsite, but the worst was yet to come.
We had left the firewood at the gas station, and with the rain, everything around us was pretty wet.
We ended up hanging up our hammocks and attempted to fall asleep without a fire, which wasn't great for our nerves.
By the time we had all started to relax, we heard footsteps coming up from over the crest of the nearby hill.
The steps were slow and deliberate, just like the steps from the guy we had seen earlier.
We killed our lights and sat there in the dark listening.
It felt like eons before the steps finally stopped.
We worked up the courage to look around.
We took our flashlights and knives just in case and did a quick scan, but didn't see anything.
By then, we said screw it, so we started packing up our gear, figuring that we would just sleep in the car.
And then from behind us there was a cough.
And that was all we needed to pack up in a hurry and race down the trail to our car.
We didn't even worry about packing up neatly, we just tossed all of our stuff in the back and got out of there.
The next hour was a blur of dark, twisting roads, with no cell phone service, and not a hint of where we were going.
Finally we we had a paved road, and after about twenty more minutes, and running on fumes, we came to a little country store with a gas pump connected to an adorable house and auto garage.
It had already closed for the night, but the family living there saw us at the pump while they were having dinner and came outside to help.
They even opened the store so that we could buy some snacks and pop.
After what we experienced, talking to them was a huge relief, and let us calm our nerves.
We eventually got back on the road and kept it driving six hours straight until we were finally back home.
Today, we're exploring deep in the North American wilderness among nature's wildest plants, animals, and
cows.
Uh, you're actually on an Organic Valley dairy farm where nutritious, delicious, organic food gets its start.
But there's so much nature.
Exactly.
Organic Valley's small family farms protect the land and the plants and animals that call it home.
Extraordinary.
Sure is.
Organic Valley, protecting where your food comes from.
Learn more about their delicious dairy at ov.coop.
I traveled alone through the U.S.
many times.
This has given me a lot of opportunities to live through some absolutely bizarre situations.
As such, I have two different encounters where I thought I was about to enter the nightmare of my life.
Story number one.
I was camping about an hour from Santa Fe, New Mexico.
It was a weak night, and it was cold.
Snow was in the forecast.
I was supposed to leave early in the morning for Texas.
So to negate the cold and possible snow, I slept in my Jeep.
In the middle of the night, an SUV literally skidded to a stop across the gravel into my campground.
This woke me up and immediately put me on edge.
The SUV was blasting mariachi music, which I found to be odd, but I figured these people were just drunk or high.
The doors to the SUV swung open, and these people got out and started running through the woods, screaming bloody murder.
I mean, these people sounded like they were going to die.
From inside my Jeep, I was at a loss.
After maybe one or two minutes, everything quieted down, so I tucked into my sleeping bag.
I just stayed still, cramped up in the back of my Jeep, wishing and praying for them to go away.
I don't know how long this was happening since I didn't dare look at my phone, but eventually I heard quiet footsteps around my Jeep.
The voices were muffled and the only clear dialogue I caught was, Do you think someone is in there?
As you can imagine, I absolutely lost my cool.
I started screaming as I crawled up to the front seat where I turned on the lights and shoved the key into the ignition.
As I looked up, I saw these people scattering away into the trees and down the mountainside.
Ever since, I've kept a J-Frame revolver and my center console whenever I travel.
Story number two.
This happened in Little Rock, Arkansas.
I was heading to Oklahoma from the East Coast to visit family for Christmas.
I was too cheap to pay for a hotel, so I got off at I-40.
I parked behind a hotel and slept in my Jeep.
In the middle of the night, I was woken up by a small scraping noise.
Confused, I opened my eyes and saw a figure outside, attempting to work the zipper on my soft top.
Horrified, I simply sat there.
It wasn't until the person managed to stick their hand through the small opening that they had created that I reached out, grabbed the nearest thing to me, which was a Coleman lantern, and used it to smash their hand.
Without waiting to see the result of this, I jumped into the front seat, started the ignition, and peeled out of that hotel parking lot faster than I've ever left anywhere.
I didn't stop for gas, red lights, or anything, and I merged back onto I-40 right away.
Needless to say, that was the last time I ever slept in my Jeep.
This happened when my mother and I were driving.
I can't recall where we were going specifically, since it was so long ago.
It all started when we pulled up to a stop sign.
We were stuck sitting at this stop sign for what seemed like the longest stop ever, especially for a stop sign.
I remember she was looking both ways, and I watched her as she looked right and then left.
Then she shifted her gaze to me in the rear view mirror.
She had such a gentle smile on her face, as a loving mother would, as she looked at me with love.
But just like that her face instantly went from joyous to worrisome and panicked.
I saw her eyes pan from me to the seat next to me, and then I heard the rear passenger door open.
As I was turning my attention from my mother to the noise of the car door being opened, I saw a man who I didn't know entering the car.
He sat right next to me and instructed my mother to keep driving.
There was a different vibe from this man.
He didn't seem to be phased by either one of us.
nose.
My mother told the man that she wanted him out of the car.
She attempted to be stern and demanding, but she was such a kind-hearted woman that her yelling honestly sounded like singing.
So of course the man was undeterred by her chirping.
As he sat in the back seat, he flatly said, Drive, please.
You just need to take me a little further down the road.
I was badly wanting to glare and stare at the man, but I didn't want to upset upset him, so I leaned as far as I could against my door and lowered my head, which was in my hands, down in my lap.
I felt the car jerk forward as my mother's breathing became heavy.
I could feel that she was particularly worried, as this man was in the back seat with me.
Thankfully, I can't say I was necessarily scared of this man.
I was more curious as to how he was able to so boldly get into a car with strangers and be so cool about it.
I was always taught to never take rides from people that I didn't know, so this was a pretty foreign concept to me.
My poor mother, though, I can only imagine the things that were going through her mind as she was involuntarily chauffeuring a stranger up the street with her child in the back, with him not even three feet away.
We continued down the road until he suddenly leaned forward in his seat.
He was gazing out the window, watching the scenery go by as he reached for the handle on the rear passenger door.
Here, he abruptly called out.
My mother then jerked the car into the dirt on the side of the road.
She did this with so much urgency that the car skidded to gain traction before being able to come to a complete stop.
He then flung the door open, shot up from his seat, and bolted out of the car.
He didn't even bother to close the door before taking off.
My mother pulled back onto the road right away and sped off so fast fast that the door slammed itself shut.
I used to live in an old Victorian house in Maryland, and at the time of this story, I was ten years old.
This house had been turned into a duplex.
The two floors were split into two different units, and both were rented out as apartments.
I was living in the apartment that was was upstairs.
There was a university nearby, so there were a lot of college students around, and there were also a lot of drug issues in the area.
People were always having their houses raided or searched, and they were constantly getting into fights over drugs.
I honestly don't remember much non-drug-related crime happening there ever.
The owner of the house had told my family that the people who rented the upstairs unit previously had given them a lot of trouble and he had to kick them out.
My family had just moved there for my dad's new job and we didn't have a place to live yet, so we were thankful that their lease had ended early so that we could move in.
If there was anything else that the owner elaborated upon about this, my parents didn't share it with me.
I was homeschooled online.
and an only child, so my parents would leave for the day to go to work while I stayed in the apartment and completed my schoolwork on my own.
About a week after we had moved in, there was this loud banging on the door.
I ran down the inside stairs to open it, and there was this tall, thick man dressed in all black.
He even had a black mask that covered his whole face with holes cut out for his eyes and mouth.
As immensely stupid as this sounds, this set off no alarm bells for me.
The place that we were living in was cold all year round, so ten-year-old me naively assumed that he was just dressed for the weather.
Behind him I remember seeing a car parked next to the building that was left running.
He just stood there silently for a couple of seconds but felt awkward, so I said, Hi, can I help you with something?
He continued to stand there for what felt like forever before saying something like, I'm here for the mail.
I smiled and replied, Oh, sure.
I know you just moved out.
My dad brought the mail in this morning.
Let me go see if there's anything for you.
Then I turned around, leaving the door wide open, and ran inside to retrieve the pile of mail.
I looked through it and I didn't see anything that didn't have my family's name on it, so I returned to the door empty-handed.
Just as I was about to tell him the bad news, he was gone, and so was the car.
When my parents came home that evening, I told them that the previous renter had stopped by and asked for his mail.
My dad had a fit and said that I should not have opened the door while I was home alone.
He also explained that our mail was distributed by the homeowner since there was only one mailbox.
So the homeowner would receive all the mail and then separate it for the renters.
And my dad said that the previous renter already knew that.
He was furious with me and asked what the previous tenant looked like, and I described the all-black outfit and mask.
I know enough now to know that I handled the situation entirely wrong, and I'm grateful that nothing happened, but I've always wondered why didn't he do anything?
I was home alone, and this was the daytime, so my parents were gone for work and wouldn't have come back until the evening.
I also don't even think that the other renter was home, and on top of that, I made it pretty clear that I was not suspicious of him whatsoever, as I left the door wide open while I turned my back to have a look at the male.
I've never been able to understand what protected me that day.
Today, we're exploring deep in the North American wilderness among nature's wildest plants, animals, and
cows.
Uh, you're actually on an Organic Valley dairy farm where nutritious, delicious organic food gets its start.
But there's so much nature.
Exactly.
Organic Valley's small family farms protect the land and the plants and animals that call it home.
Extraordinary.
Sure is.
Organic Valley, protecting where your food comes from.
Learn more about their delicious dairy at ov.coop.
All of this started when I was at my childhood friend's apartment for what was supposed to be a fun little movie night.
We hadn't hung out in a while, and we were catching up.
Her place is cozy, albeit a little disorganized, and full of girly decor.
Her apartment isn't the tidiest, and things are a bit scattered around, but it's clean and so authentic, which makes me feel at home.
When I got there, we settled in, wearing our comfiest sweatpants, and got ready to watch princess movies.
We decided to order pizza for dinner.
She mentioned that Sherwood, someone I hadn't met yet, would be bringing the pizza over.
At first I wasn't happy to hear that.
I thought that this meant she had invited a guy over to join us, which wasn't what I had in mind.
But I was in for a surprise.
It turns out Sherwood was just dropping the pizzas by for us, and he wasn't joining us.
But when he got to the apartment, there was this awkward air about him.
He was nervous as he fumbled a bit with the pizza boxes, not quite making eye contact.
My friend introduced us quickly, and it was clear from the overly thankful demeanor that Sherwood did a lot more for her than just fetch dinner.
After handing us the pizza, there was this brief moment of forced small talk between the three of us.
My friend was very nice to him, despite his awkwardness.
He wasn't the best conversationalist and seemed really out of place.
When Sherwood asked me for my number, I was in a tough spot because our mutual friend was right there.
So I just gave it to him.
We chatted for about five minutes before my friend gave him a cue to leave by saying something like, Well, thanks so much for dropping this off.
And with that, we both hugged him and he left.
When I asked my friend what that was all about, she explained that Sherwood was sort of like her personal assistant.
He did her grocery shopping, he would drop off pizzas, he did all kinds of other stuff too.
I think that Sherwood was just a guy looking for interaction.
My friend and I were both young and immature back then.
We were about 23, but we both knew that something was off about Sherwood.
After he had my number, he started a group chat with me and my friend.
He started things by sending a meme or two every week.
It felt like he was trying to stay relevant without being intrusive.
Maybe he was just used to being sidelined or even blocked by other people that he interacted with in the past.
I felt like he was trying to make me remember him, but also carefully trying not to give me a reason to block him.
I'm not sure if this is true or not, but that's just what I felt.
Sherwood then offered to help me with errands.
The first time I said, oh, thanks for asking, but no thank you.
He continued to ask to help me every weekend after that.
One day I made the mistake of accepting his help.
I had recently found a great deal for a new washing machine on Craigslist, but I had no idea how to pick it up or how to install it.
When I mentioned this over text, Sherwood excitedly volunteered to take care of the whole thing.
He handled the entire pickup and installation like a champ, and this saved me a lot of hassle.
I tried to pay him for his time and effort since I wanted to show him my appreciation, but he just wouldn't accept any money.
Eventually he suggested that I could repay him by joining him for a hike.
I was uneasy about this.
It felt a bit too personal.
It felt like something that could be mistaken for a date.
But Sherwood framed it as nothing more than a platonic outing.
So I agreed.
I rationalized it by telling myself that it was a fair trade for installing the washing machine.
He didn't have too many friends, so going on this hike would be a way for him to have some companionship, and I thought that it would be nice to feel like I was helping him in return.
Part of me was still uneasy about spending time with him in such an isolated setting, though.
On the day of the hike, Sherwood let me know that he picked this trail that was nearby, and I had been there before.
It was gorgeous.
We met there, and as we walked together, he chatted about ordinary things like work, the weather, and his hobbies.
Everything seemed normal, until he suggested that we go off of the main path to see something special that he wanted to share.
I agreed to this, even though I was wondering, what does that even mean?
So we reached a secluded spot, and there we saw a dead body.
My heart pounded so violently as Sherwood just stood there, eerily calm and nonchalant.
The casualness of his demeanor made me feel even more uneasy.
It felt like he wasn't just showing me a dead body, but also revealing this darker side of himself.
I didn't know how long it had been there, but it smelled really bad.
I'm no biologist, but my guess is that it had smelled a lot worse before, but the scent had gone down over time.
Right away I mumbled some excuse about needing to get back quickly and started walking briskly towards the main path, while urging Sherwood to follow me.
I thought maybe this was some kind of twisted mind game, like a way to intimidate me or show that he wasn't as harmless as he seemed.
I even thought that maybe he was trying to send a message that said, I'm familiar with things like this.
But on the surface, he just seemed oblivious to how inappropriate this was.
As we walked back to the main trail together, I was in full fight or flight mode.
I was instinctively instinctively looking around to see if there were other hikers or rangers, anyone who could make me feel like I was not alone.
Then I spotted someone else on the trail, so I called out to them.
Not to say anything about Sherwood or the dead body, but just to ask for directions back to the parking area.
When I flagged this gentleman down, I wanted to make sure that Sherwood and I wouldn't be left alone together, so I asked him to walk us back to the parking lot.
I wasn't going to take no for an answer.
I kept pretending I was too confused about his directions, and eventually he agreed to walk us there.
Getting help from that guy was my way of somewhat reanchoring myself to normality while I was still shocked by what Sherwood had just so casually shown me.
When we got to the parking area, I called my friend and I told her I was with Sherwood.
I suggested that he drop me off with her and let her know that we would be at her place in 20 minutes.
That was my way of ensuring that if anything happened, it was on the record that Sherwood was the last person to have been with me.
Also, I immediately texted my friend about what happened, to have that on record as well.
When Sherwood and I got to her apartment, my friend and I thanked him, kindly dismissed him, and said that we had something to do.
I had already told her that he showed me a dead body through text, but then after Sherwood was gone, I was able to go into detail.
I told her about how casual Sherwood was, and how the body had insects, and the deceased person's face was starting to decompose, but still had recognizable features.
Her reaction was pure horror.
Not just about the dead body, but about how nonchalantly Sherwood had treated the whole situation.
She then revealed that she's always sensed something off about him, but she never imagined anything this disturbing.
After that, we both agreed that it was best to remove Sherwood from our lives.
She admitted to feeling torn about this as she had become so reliant on having Sherwood help her out.
She wasn't ready to cut him out cold turkey, so we planned out how we would do it and put this gradual phasing out plan into place.
We started by limiting our interactions with him to times when others were present.
Then we slowly reduced our responses to his texts.
I rarely asked for his help to begin with, but I never asked for his help again, while my friend asked for less help over time.
Sherwood kept texting during weekends, offering to run errands or help out with whatever we needed, to which my friend would reply, I'm working on being more independent, but you've been a lot of help.
Shortly after this, my friend started dating someone new.
She introduced Sherwood to her boyfriend, and Sherwood never contacted her again.
I called the cops the night I went on that hike with Sherwood, but it was a while before I heard any more news about it.
About a month later, a news report confirmed that a dead body was discovered in the area where Sherwood had taken me hiking.
After investigating, they were able to make an arrest, not of Sherwood, but this other guy who Sherwood followed on Instagram.
I still have no idea if Sherwood was connected to the murder.
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This week you have heard Creepy Dude at the Pizza Shop by Shit Takes Only.
Weird Encounter with a Local When Traveling by This Taken To.
I'm Not Going to Hurt You by Cat Ladda Dip Dat.
Fine, Keep Your Rent Money by Cat Lady 1995.
Southern Illinois Strangeness by Kmart Police.
Always lock your car doors by Natushi143.
What Was He Going to Do by Two Pickett?
Sleeping in Cars Is Not Always the Best by Wild Boy 647.
And finally, The Hike by Michelle Rose 23.
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's not meetstories at gmail.com if you want to hear them on the show.
And finally, make 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, all at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts.
Everyone, stay safe.
This story took place roughly fifteen years ago when I was about fourteen or fifteen in Auckland, New Zealand.