Meeting new people can be fun, but it can also be pretty scary, as you don’t know the other person’s intentions. From kind people that saved someone’s life to creepy stalkers, these stories will shock you to the core!
I pulled into the ER with my three-year-old daughter, who was turning blue from an asthma attack. I was frantic and thought she wasn’t going to make it.
The parking lot attendant came over to tell me the lot was full, saw my daughter, ripped open the door of my van, and pulled her out of her car seat. He told me to put the car in park and follow him.
He ran with my blue, non-responsive daughter into the ER, yelling, “She’s not breathing!” They hooked her up to oxygen set me up with an asthma specialist, and she’s been fine ever since.
I learned that day never to underestimate the importance of someone’s role in life. That parking lot attendant had just as much to do with saving my daughter’s life as the doctors and nurses in the ER.
My son was in a pretty serious accident. I was a wreck in the ICU waiting room. A little girl maybe about 9 or 10 years old, was with her family, saying goodbye to her great-grandmother.
She waltzed right up to me and said, “Sir, why are you crying? ” I explained my son was very sick. She handed me a miniature puppy doll and told me it was lucky, and my son would get better. She was right, he did, and I still keep that little puppy on my dresser and think of that sweet child.
The day I found out my grandmother had a stroke and would never walk or talk again, I was away at college. I finally broke down in a bathroom.
A girl came in and asked if I needed a hug. I was crying so hard that I really didn’t get a look at her face. I cried on her shoulder for about 10 minutes and then had to pull myself together and leave for class.
I never explained myself, and she never asked. I never recognized or spoke to her again. I wonder if she sometimes saw me on campus and wondered what was up and if I was okay.
When I was about 14, I had a terrible fight with my parents. I had a history of fighting with them ever since I could talk, but this time was different. It got physical. I was really upset, so I left the house and sat on a bench outside crying.
A guy walked up to me and asked if I was ok. He asked what happened and offered me a smoke. I declined, and he basically held a monologue for an hour.
One of his friends stopped by and entered the conversation as well. He talked about his life, which was similar to mine, and his way of dealing with things. I hardly said ten words to him, but he changed my life.
After that, I developed quite a good bond with my parents and didn’t really fight with them again. I’ve always wanted to thank him for just being there when I felt so alone, but I never saw him again.
I had about a 2-hour drive from Columbus to the Cleveland area. I tend to drive on the faster side and therefore pass a lot of people. I noticed about 20 minutes into the drive that the car behind me was still the same one that got onto the highway right behind me.
We ended up driving the entire 2 hours right next to each other or in front of/behind each other. We created space in lanes to help the other pass the slower cars and made sure the other wouldn’t fall behind.
As I was getting off the highway, he honked his horn, gave me a big smile, and waved. It has been my favorite driving experience so far.
I was 17 years old and sitting on a cross-country flight. For the first time ever, I decided to bring my laptop with me on the plane. I also brought a DVD of the Navy Blue Angels flight demonstration team.
As I was watching the documentary, I noticed the lady sitting next to me constantly peeking over from her book at my screen. The woman was in her late 30s, so it just seemed a bit odd. I paused the movie, and she pointed to the screen and asked if I liked airplanes.
I enthusiastically replied, “I love them!” It just so happened that she was a pilot and told me all about how to get my pilot’s license. She told me about her flying adventures and became my first aviation friend.
As soon as I got back home, I took my first flying lesson and eventually became a pilot. Her words of encouragement and wisdom brought me into the world of flying, which I used to only dream about.
When I was 16, I would go to the park near my high school to run. One day, an older man was walking around the park and waved me down. He said he has seen me come every day like clockwork for the past couple of months and wanted to tell me to never give up being healthy.
I had never thought about it before at that deep of a level. I was just training to be better for my senior year of football.
We talked for about 40 minutes, and then he asked me, “How old do you think I am?” He was old but not digging his grave by any means. I guessed 68. The truth was shocking—he was 89 years old. He came to the park every day and walked at least three miles.
It was amazing and inspiring. I’ll never forget him, and I hope he’s still walking around that park.
I’d locked myself out of my flat once when I was taking out the rubbish. It would have been close to midnight. Female, early twenties, and just out of the hospital.
I had no way to get in and no money, phone, or nearby friends. I don’t remember this boy arriving or explaining myself to him, but he sat with me until morning the whole night, long beneath my block.
He had limited English, so we barely spoke, and he shared a tin of pineapple with me that he had in his bag. He was calm, empty of ill intent, quiet but watchful. Friendly, a big, open smile. When the sun came up, he walked on.
I’ll never forget him or how kind he was to do that. Some people are so in tune with the world, they protect it. I hope he was ok too.
I was in the security line at the airport when I saw a woman speaking rather oddly until it clicked in my head that she was deaf. She was trying to tell the TSA people something, but she only knew sign language and really couldn’t speak.
Out of nowhere, this kid, who was about seven or eight, walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. Then, he shocked everyone. He started doing sign language and explained to the security people what the woman was saying.
After they thanked him for helping her, the deaf woman hugged the boy, and he went back to his mom and dad. It was a beautiful moment that has stuck with me.
When I was in 7th grade, I was sitting in the park next to my school, crying because of bullies. This totally gangsta-looking guy walked over to me and asked, “What’s wrong little sister?”
I told him about what the mean girls at school did that day and how worthless I felt. He gave me a 15-minute talk about how others’ hurtful opinions are worth NOTHING, how kids at this age are so cruel, etc.
He ended it with, “You’re strong. You have it in you. If you can survive this, you can survive practically anything.” He continued to tell me, “It’ll be so much better when you’re an adult.” It made my year and helped me feel so much better. I’ll never forget him.
I had just found out my husband of 10 years had cheated on me. I was driving and crying so hard that I quickly pulled over to the nearest parking lot. I parked my car and walked over to the beach and while watching the waves fell to my knees and just sobbed.
Gut-wrenching sobbing. About 10 minutes later, a stranger walked over to me, held her hand out, and helped me get up. She then led me to a bench and sat me down. She hugged me and rubbed my back. She let me cry and would say to me, ” this too shall pass.”
After about 15 minutes, I composed myself (as much as possible), and she smiled, got up, and continued on her walk. I truly believe she was my guardian angel. I think about that moment all the time.
The day my dad died, I was holding it together pretty well. Late that night, I went to Target to have a moment to just zone out and buy a few groceries.
As I got to the check stand with my arm full of stuff, I dropped a container of sour cream, and it exploded everywhere. I completely lost control of myself and started to cry. The ugly cry. I was instantly surrounded by a group of women who just took charge of the whole situation.
They helped me get everything paid for, cleaned up, and one lady even got a new sour cream. No words were spoken, but their compassion and take-charge attitude have stayed with me since.
It was the night before Christmas Eve, about 8:30 pm. My mom was trying to sell our place, we’d moved a few blocks away in with my new stepdad. The driveway needed to be clear, and there was about a foot and a half of snow to shovel. I was still pretty young, and it was going to be a big job.
I trudged over there with my shovel, and just started the first row when a random guy in a snowplow turned in and cleared the whole driveway in two minutes easy. He was wearing the red plaid jacket and toque combo – classic Canadian look.
I was worried as we hadn’t hired a snow removal guy, but he just waved and said Merry Christmas and drove off. Thanks, snowplow Guy, you taught me a thing or two about Xmas spirit.
I found out that my mom had two years to live. It completely destroyed me, and going back to college was tough. I didn’t know who to tell or how even to tell anyone. So, I kept it primarily to myself, which of course, made it worse.
After a long day at work one day, I walked past a solicitor in the street. He was one of those people who tried to get you to donate monthly to a charity.
I have trouble saying no to people, so I got sucked in and didn’t know how to get out politely. After about ten minutes of his spiel, he asked if I would donate. I, very honestly, said I couldn’t commit to that because my family and financial situation were in jeopardy.
He asked why and I just told him everything. I didn’t expect to be that open with a stranger, but he was wonderfully receptive.
He immediately gave me a huge hug. He told me he had recently lost his own mom and that he understood how scared I was. We talked about life, and it was one of the most rewarding conversations I’d had in a long time. I walked away feeling a lot better.
I only got his first name, but I wish I could thank him more appropriately than just those hugs.
I was having a miserable night. My wife and I had been arguing, so I went for a long walk. It was very late, and I found myself at a 24-hour grocery store. When I got to the checkout line, there were two women in front of me.
The girl right in front of me looked like a young college student, and the woman ahead of her did not speak English. She had a coupon flyer in her hand and a bunch of baby food.
The woman running the register was trying to explain to her that her government assistance would only pay for certain baby food items, and she would have to pay for the rest.
She didn’t understand and was very upset. I gathered that she didn’t have any money because she started to walk away, leaving the baby food.
I got the bagger to go bring her back, and I bought all of her baby food for her. It wasn’t a lot— just under $40. The woman was in tears and very grateful. I doubt I changed her life, but she changed mine.
It made me look at some of the things I was angry and upset about and realized they were not that important after all. My wife and I were lucky, and the issues we had were not life-threatening. I looked at my life from a renewed perspective after that.
I was having a bad day and was traveling by bus from my friend’s city back to mine. I had to transfer and ended up sitting next to a guy with a laptop.
I don’t know if he could tell that I was upset or not, but he asked me if I wanted to watch something with him. We ended up sharing headphones and watching Where the Wild Things Are. I was pretty shy back then, but if I could meet him again today, I would thank him for cheering me up.
I was volunteering with an organization that brought clean water to underdeveloped areas. A 90-year-old man broke down in my arms with tears of joy because he’d never had clean water in his life, and we gave that to him and his entire village.
It showed me exactly what it meant to be alive and who I want to spend my life being. I continued helping to build clean water systems and spreading love because of that old man’s gratitude.
A few years ago, I sat next to this younger girl, maybe 18, on a 5-hour flight, I’m a big dude, so I already feel uncomfortable on flights, try to keep in my personal space, knees closed, etc.
I guess she could tell I was uncomfortable because she immediately kinda laughed and said, “Our knees can touch it’s ok I won’t bite you.” For the next 5 hours, we sat there and talked, shared music, magazines, even split some food.
Just like we had known each other for years. No weird sexual tension, no awkward moments, just genuinely got to have a good time with a complete stranger in an otherwise uncomfortable situation.
When we got off the plane, we high-fived and went our separate ways. Also, put me in a great mood for the rest of the day. Kind of restored my faith in humanity.
I use to work at Walmart, and this lady with her 4 kids are going through self-checkout and had bread, some cold cuts, chips, and a case of water.
So they don’t have enough money. They call me over to cancel their order, so instead of canceling it, I pulled my debit card out and paid the rest. The kids ranging from 6 to 16 are looking at me in shock.
The mother is crying and thanking me, and I said, “It’s okay sometimes we just need a little help.”
A few hours later, the oldest son comes back and thanks me again and tells me that they had just gotten robbed earlier that week and were struggling until the next payday and my gesture helped remind her that there are still good people in this world.
I was on the train after work, and I fell asleep. I missed my stop—and when I awoke, I made a worrisome discovery. I was ten miles away from my car. I slung my bag with my work computer over my shoulder and decided to walk back to my car.
A minivan pulled up, and a guy told me that I was walking in a bad neighborhood. He asked me if I needed a ride. His wife and three kids were in the van.
I told him that I missed my stop, and he insisted that he had to give me a ride back to where my car was parked, saying, “It’s too dangerous around here. You’ll get robbed.”
He drove me back to my car and vehemently refused my offer of gas money. He said, “We were going here anyway.” He ran a restaurant and asked that I come there sometime for some food.
It was a nice gesture, so I drove out to his restaurant a few days later. The food was awesome, and he came out and refused my payment. He said, “We’re friends. Just tip your waitress.
The food is on me.” He restored my faith in humanity just because I fell asleep on the train and decided to walk home. I gave the waitress, who was his daughter, an $80 tip that night.
When I was 16, I had to go to the hospital. I don’t remember how it happened, but I started talking to a guy in a wheelchair. His name was Harvey, he looked a bit like Jerry Lewis, was in his forties, and told me he has brain cancer and only a few months to live. We talked for about an hour, and at the end, he gave me some advice.
He said don’t whine about anything, whining gets you nowhere, either do something about it and if you can’t, try to accept it. I never forgot that. That was almost 30 years ago. Harvey, sometimes I whine, but I try to keep it short. Thanks for that nice conversation.
I was a new nurse in a hospital facing drastic staff and budget cuts. I was in an elevator, heading home from a particularly long and grueling hospital shift. I was a stressed-out mess, had no social support at all, and if I had run into my supervisor that morning, I would have probably quit right then and there.
Instead, I ran into one of the hospital chaplains—and she changed my life forever. She dragged me down to her office and listened while I sobbed my heart out for a good 20 minutes.
Among other things, she told me to take up a hobby that was completely out of my comfort zone but was still something I wanted to do. That idea got into my head, and a couple of days later, I walked into my first Tai Chi class. As a result, I became a happy, confident nurse.
Hospital politics still suck, but I’m good at my job and love my patients. I also box, sword fight, and spar with karate black-belts on a regular basis. I never intended to take things this far, but I love it, and I am so glad that chaplain was in that elevator that specific morning.
When my son was six weeks old, he was extremely colicky, and I hadn’t slept. We had tried everything from doctors, medication, changing my diet, introducing formula, white noise, darkness, bouncing, even rocking.
Nothing was working. My husband, daughter, and I walked around the house in a daze constantly, rocking the baby and wearing headphones to cut the screaming.
So, we tried a chiropractor. It was our first visit, and of course, the baby was screaming. I was flustered, juggling the screaming baby while trying to fill out paperwork.
I was worried about the fuss I was causing in a room full of happy, quiet children. The receptionist offered to hold him, which helped. Then, a couple with a baby in the waiting room looked at me and smiled.
The mom, who was my age, said, “I like your sweater.” I looked down at myself, wearing the same clothes I had for six weeks, covered in baby spit-up, interrupting an entire waiting room with a pissed screeching baby, and I started to cry. I just cried.
Then the unexpected happened. This mom walked up to me and hugged me. No questions asked, no judgment. This woman I had never met before just hugged me and hugged me while I sobbed. When I stopped crying, she said, “You’re doing fine. He’s going to be fine, and so are you. None of us mind that he’s crying, I promise.”
I had never been touched so deeply by someone else. She didn’t know me, but she understood my embarrassment, hopelessness, and upset. It didn’t fix things, but it fundamentally changed how I felt that day.
After high school, I worked at a convenience store. I was a straight-C student and had no direction in life. I was pretty happy just sitting around and watching TV. One night, I endured a nightmare come to life.
A guy came in and held me up at knifepoint. After the authorities left, my boss made me finish my shift. I spent the rest of the night evaluating my life.
That night, I decided that I would do everything in my power not to become the kind of person who robs a teenager working at a convenience store or the person who tries to dock the money taken from the store from the employee that got held up.
I went ahead and enrolled in university and started getting straight A’s.
When I was about six or seven, I was walking outside on my patio, tripped on a step going down, and fell forehead-first onto the stone. I had a huge welt right above my eye and couldn’t stop crying.
My mom and two-year-old brother were the only ones in the house, so my mom put us in the car and began to drive to the ER.
When we got there, she was having a difficult time getting us both inside because I kept crying and my brother kept wandering around the parking lot.
A middle-aged man walking out saw what was happening, picked me up, and ran inside. He sat with me in the waiting room while my mom signed us in. I had no idea what was going on, and I was still in a lot of pain.
I never got to thank the man, but I’ll remember his kindness for the rest of my life.
I was in a little dive bar with some friends. There was a pretty cute girl with blue hair. I was watching her out of the corner of my eye. She was trying to ignore some drunken frat boy that was standing right next to me.
The guy was getting louder and pushier. She finally lost her cool and turned around to take a swing at him, but instead nailed me right in the eye.
She broke my glasses and just about put me on the floor. It was one of the hardest hits I had ever taken. I’ll never forget the look on her face. She stood there absolutely mortified, and the guy vanished. She got me a bag of ice and sat me down on the curb blubbering on about how sorry she was. I was laughing about it. As we were chatting, she told me she was from Chicago.
Oddly enough, I was about to leave for the Navy and would be spending a little over a year there. I got her info, and she agreed to buy me an apology drink in Chicago. A year later, we got married.
When I was about 10, I had just split my lip in half with my tooth. I was waiting in the ER crying with an ice pack pressed to my face and was not a happy camper.
A middle-aged scruffy man in a wheelchair just looked at me with the kindest expression and said, “Hang in there.” It was such a simple thing, but as a scared kid, it meant SO much for a random stranger to say such a nice thing.
He probably had a lot more going on than I did, considering his wheelchair, but he still cared enough to try to help me.
There was a guy outside a gas station asking for money in my hometown, which was not common in my area. For some reason, I just said “whatever” and gave him $20.
About a year or so after, I got arrested and spent four days in the county pen and had to go to gen pop. Others warned me to watch my back. I was young and flipping out.
I found out that some guy ran the block I would be in for the next couple of days. I thought I had better pay him off with a few ramen or something to stay out of trouble.
When I went in, he instantly recognized me, even though I didn’t remember him. It was the most surreal moment in my life. It was the guy I gave the $20 to.
He explained to me his gratitude for that night and took it upon himself to make sure I was well taken care of while inside.
When I was 25, I was homeless and living on the streets. I was standing in front of a Quick Stop asking for food. A man approached and took me into the store and got me some food, snacks, water, and a cup of coffee.
We talked, and I learned he was into property investment. He offered me a little gig doing minor maintenance and yard work on these properties.
He let me shower and even spend the night in some of the vacant properties. From that opportunity, I was able to get a full-time job and rent a small one-bedroom house out in the country from him.
He changed my life forever. I may not have had everything I wanted, but I was able to get everything I needed—all because a person had faith in me when I no longer had faith in myself.
When I was 16, and in high school, I was walking back to class from lunch eating an ice cream sandwich. I tossed the wrapper on the ground outside and didn’t think anything of it.
As I walked into class, I felt someone grab me by the arm. It was a kid that rode my bus, who came from a low-income family. His home wasn’t in the best shape, his clothes weren’t “cool,” and he didn’t have the best hygiene.
However, he didn’t care about any of that. He was always very happy. He saw me litter, picked up the wrapper, and chased me down to hand it back to me. He wasn’t rude or condescending about it.
He just handed me the wrapper and said, “I think you dropped this, buddy.” He patted me on the shoulder and walked off. In that instance, I realized I was just a selfish kid and that the universe was much bigger than I was.
We became friends. He didn’t have cable, so I taped whatever I could off the TV for him. I got off the bus at his stop so kids wouldn’t pick on him by yelling out the bus window.
I would never have done any of these things if he hadn’t chased me down to hand me the garbage I carelessly dropped on the ground. He taught me an invaluable lesson that day, and I’m eternally grateful for it. I also never littered again.
I was living in a country where a lot of low-wage jobs were held by foreign workers, and subtle discrimination would occur. One day we had a guy install something in the office.
He didn’t speak much English and just went about doing his job. At the end of the day, I went to check whether he was done with the installation. When he said yes, I thanked him and automatically shook his hand.
I didn’t think much of it‚ but his reaction truly shook me. The smile and wonder that broke out on his face really moved me. It made me reflect on how I treat people and that I should honor people more with simple actions.
Every week for more than 25 years, I would meet my grandparents for dinner at the same restaurant. Recently, a homeless man came in and asked the server for a warm glass of water so he could warm up a bit.
He said he wasn’t trying to panhandle and was just cold. She came back with the manager, who scolded him for being there. I was horrified.
I plated him up some of my dish, took it to him, and said, “You’re my guest now. Enjoy your dinner and warm up.” The staff was in awe. He thanked me, ate faster than I’ve ever seen, and left. That experience always stayed with me.
It was the summer of 2005, and I was working as a law intern at the Department of Justice. The city was in the middle of a heatwave, which wasn’t unusual, but it was particularly muggy.
I had just left the office for the weekend and was headed for the train. As I was about to go down the escalator, I saw a lady who looked overheated and down on her luck.
I asked her if she was okay, and she explained that she didn’t have any money to get on the metro and her three kids were at another stop. She explained she was just trying to get them all home.
I asked if I could buy dinner for her and her children, and she graciously accepted. We walked to a nearby Subway, and she ordered four sandwiches. I insisted she add chips and two bottles of water for everyone.
I walked her back to the station and gave her my metro card. The card had more than enough on it to get her and her kids home and then some. As we parted ways, I told her I was truly sorry that I could not do more for her.
With glassy eyes, she asked if my name was Michael. I thought that was kind of weird, but I politely explained that it wasn’t my first name, but it was my middle name.
She told me her name, and she started to cry. I asked her what was wrong, and she said, “Nothing. The Lord told me He was going to send me an angel today, and I didn’t believe Him, but He sent me you.
Thank you, my angel.” Then she walked away. Ever since that muggy August day, I have tried to be the person that woman thinks I am.
There was a festival in the city I was visiting, so I went to check it out. There was a guy there who was missing part of his leg. Many of the teens and young adults were staring at or avoiding him.
He dropped something, and a little kid, who was about five years old, walked over and picked it up for him, and they had a little chat. She asked point-blank why he didn’t have a leg.
He made up a big story about fighting fantasy animals in a magic forest to save a princess. He then pointed to his wife and said she was the princess. They kept chatting.
The wife slipped into the dollar store while they continued to talk. She snuck up behind the girl, placed a little tiara on her head, and said she was now the princess. I never saw a little girl so happy before.
It reminded me that there’s so much good in the world.
Was pretty drunk one night, out at the bars with a couple of friends. We were walking to the next pub, and I hear some guy across the street, don’t remember what he was saying though.
I pipe up and yell, “you talkin’ sh*t?” And he responds “yea I’m talkin’ sh*t.” I start walking across the street with my arms stretched wide, like bring it on. I hear my friends behind me telling me to stop and asking what I was doing.
The stranger walks towards me too, and when we get up close, we both just go in for a huge hug. Never met the dude before, and honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t get punched. I’ll always remember that.
My boyfriend and I were on a road trip in the Deep South, we had a tent and could not find a camping park that would take us. We ended up driving around looking for a rural place to crash, and along the way, we saw a family having dinner on their outdoor patio.
We pulled over and asked where the closest park was, and the homeowner said, “Oh, what the hell, camp on our front yard!” We ended up spending the night, having a campfire, and chatting about life and love. I’ll never forget that night and the hospitality of the south.
When I was a teenager, I was walking down a popular street to like a Walgreens or something. A guy around my age was sitting outside of my favorite little hole-in-the-wall sushi spot with a skateboard, as I walked by, he asked if I could buy him sushi.
I told him to wait for me, I had to run to grab something, then I’d come to get sushi with him. I walked to Walgreens, completely flustered, did whatever I had to do, then walked back and got us both sushi rolls.
We sat outside. He told me he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually buy him sushi just by asking, and I admitted I surprised myself too. We had a totally pleasant meal together then I went home.
I was at the grocery store when I came across the bakery aisle. Even though I was on a new diet, I bought three muffins and five large cookies.
As I drove home, I stopped at a patch of grass near my apartment to let my dog out. I started to feel guilty about the sweets. I saw a woman waiting for the metro, or at least I thought so, and I grabbed the cookies and muffins from my trunk and asked if she would like them.
When I did, she looked up at me. She had been crying. She told me how she hadn’t eaten anything in three days. I felt horrible and also gave her $20. I realized how ridiculous it was for me to feel guilty about something so small as buying sweets, while all around you, maybe right next to you, someone can be suffering something more real than you can perceive, and most days, it goes unnoticed.
My family and I were about to cross a tolled bridge. We were several spaces behind the toll booth when we suddenly noticed that the booth attendant was waving people through and smiling without collecting the toll.
When we came up to the booth, he explained that a woman several cars ahead of us paid for several of the cars’ tolls, including ours, and wanted to tell everyone, “You’re beautiful.”
It made our day. I was enthralled; it really changed how I looked at the world and how I felt I should act in it.
Was in an IKEA in Germany and as a goof got on one of the beds. I had my eyes closed for 10 seconds when a stranger my age comes around the corner and tells me to “wake up”.
I roll around and tell him, “Just 5 more minutes“. It was odd but also kinda funny in the sense that we were pretending to be in an entirely different scenario right at that moment. Never had a random roleplay like that happen again since then.
On my eighteenth birthday, my family and I were eating dinner in a fairly fancy restaurant. It was on a Friday, so it was pretty busy. Our server was very nice, but clearly, a little stressed by the number of customers.
My mom had baked a lemon meringue pie and brought it with us. My family only finished about half of it, so we asked the server if she wanted the rest. She thanked us and took it back to the kitchen.
The pan came back about ten minutes later, completely empty. Our server looked me right in the eye and said, “Thank you so much, from me and the whole kitchen. You made our night so much better.” I almost cried.
It was the most sincere thank you I have ever received to this day. I still think about that lady and how many opportunities we don’t take to be kind to each other.
I worked at Walgreens ringing people up. I had an older rugged-looking gentleman come in late one evening. He came up to my register with three or four toys and some denture cream.
I assumed he was buying the toys for his grandkids and the denture cream for himself. The transaction went well until he realized he was short a few dollars.
He decided not to get the denture cream and only bought the toys. As I watched him walk towards the exit, my jaw literally DROPPED. I watched as he dropped the two bags of toys into the Toys for Tots donation box. I was speechless.
When I was working in retail, I met a lady. We were making small talk when she told me it was her 50th wedding anniversary.
I asked her if she still loved her husband, and she said, “More than ever! We got married when we were 18, and although there have been times when I’ve wanted to get rid of him, I love him more than anyone. I’d do it all over again if I had to.”
Those words just stuck with me. I didn’t see this often, and it was nice to hear about long-lasting love.
On a trip to Japan, I was on a long train journey. There was an elderly woman sitting next to me who noticed I was becoming restless after sitting for such a long period of time.
She promptly pulled out her purse and pulled out several square pieces of paper. She taught me how to do complex origami while completely ignoring our language barrier.
It felt like a heartfelt conversation, even though not a word was spoken. I’ll never forget it.
When I was a child, I wanted to be a paramedic. After high school, I went to school to become a firefighter by getting my Associates in Fire Science and becoming an EMT.
The goal was to go to paramedic school on sponsorship from the fire department that I was doing my EMT ride-along with. I needed a few months’ worth of hours on the rig to qualify, but the chief had already approved it. I was going to live my dream. But it turned into an actually horror story.
Three accidents within two weeks changed my life and my future. The first was a family that had been wiped out in an accident. The second was a father and son—the father still alive.
The last was a family of five that got into a bad wreck. We rolled up, and the three kids were screaming for their parents. The kids walked away without a scratch, but the parents didn’t make it.
That was my last call and my last night as an EMT.
I was about 15 and crying on a step downtown because social anxiety was really a struggle for me. After a while, a girl of about 20 stopped just to ask me what was the matter. It took a lot, but I just opened up to her as she gently held me on her shoulder and wiped my tears away.
As I smiled before we went our separate ways, she promised me that things would get better. I was skeptical at first, but I always remembered our words whenever I was feeling sad. I really think she might have saved me from suicide. Leah, if you’re reading this, thank you again.
One year, around Christmas time, I was standing in the security line at the airport. There was an old guy who was quite rotund with glasses and a beard who had a red sweater on. A girl who was probably about five or six turned to her mom and said, “Look, it’s Santa!!”
Her young mom was mortified and turned beet-red. The guy bent down and asked the girl what her name was. The girl, flushed with excitement, told him her name. The man said, “And what do you want for Christmas?”
The little girl replied, “For my dad to come back from the Army.” At that point, the mom started to cry. The guy said, “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
The girl goes, “It’s ok, Santa,” and hugged him. The mom mouthed, “Thank you,” and the guy gave a smile and nodded. I teared up a bit. It helped me realize how great people can be.
When I was 30, I had a sword fight with a boy about 11 or 12 in a Rite-Aid. He was standing there looking at the plastic swords, and when he looked up at me, I held my sword out and gave a nod, like let’s go.
I was at the other end of the aisle, so we run towards each other and take a huge swing. When the swords connected, and they shattered into a thousand pieces. I mean they exploded. He’s got a look of utter shock.
He starts looking around and I gave him a, don’t worry about it, I’ll pay for them. I think they were about 3 bucks each. His mom didn’t notice as she was checking out. He’s gotta be in his 30’s now. It was fun.
No one in my family wanted to ride the Aerosmith Rock ‘n’ Rollercoaster with me, so I went solo and got seated next to a guy who didn’t speak English. I knew ahead of time that they take your picture as the ride blasts off so I made a face (rock fist, tongue out).
At the end of the ride, my ride partner and I went to look at our photo and amazingly, unknown to the other, we had both made the same face and gesture. We both laughed when we saw it. He said something to me I didn’t understand, gave me a hug, and we parted ways. I still think about him 6 years later.
I was in Boston one night with friends and started to sing Show Me The Way To Go Home. A girl on the other side of the street walking in the other direction sang every other verse with me for over a block and a half. We were quite loud before we ended.
I was studying in a uni library when I see the guy sitting next to me turn his head to look at me for a moment too long. I turn to look at him, and he sticks his arm out and offers me some Cheetos.
I politely turn him down, and we both go back to studying, he doesn’t make any attempt to interact with me again. Fast forward a few months, and I’m heading back to my home State from a completely different State 3 hours away on a bus with assigned seating.
It’s relatively empty other than maybe 10 others max, all in random areas of the bus. I’m minding my own business when the guy in front of me gets up on his knees on the seat and turns around to face me. It is the same guy from the library.
And what does he do? Stick his arm out and offer me Cheetos.
I was around 16 (F) at the time and at the mall with my two guy friends. We split up in the food court and while I was aimlessly walking around trying to pick out food, someone bumped into me from behind.
I assumed it was my friends, but as I turned, I was handed a BABY from a man I’ve never met. He then backed away toward a woman, and they started laughing. It looked like she was taking pictures of me with her phone.
They spoke in a language I didn’t recognize and kept backing up further away while looking at me and laughing, almost as if trying to make me follow them. All the while, I’m holding a strange baby in the middle of the mall food court too stunned to move.
After what felt like hours but was maybe a minute or so, my friends walked over to me, very confused and why I had a baby. Before I could even utter a word, the man and woman ran over, took the baby, and left.
11 years later, I still have no explanation.
Just arrived at a music festival in the Faroe Islands back in 2005 with my friends, and this girl I’d never seen before leaps around my neck, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and wishes me a happy birthday before running off into the night, check my phone and its literally just struck midnight on my 21st birthday.
I was in the backseat of my friend’s car, one friend driving and one in the passenger seat. At an intersection, a truck pulls up next to us, and in the most Southern U.S. smoker accent, he says out the window, “Hey kid! What do you know?”
And my friend replied, “I know a lot of things, what do you know?” And this crazy dude, without missing a beat, said, “Two plus five equals nine, and crime is only illegal if you get caught, so drunk drive safely. Have a day!”
And then sped off, timing the light perfectly somehow so that it switched to green as he finished the sentence. Felt like something out of a fever dream.
I was in a grocery store, and I happened to be in the ice cream/frozen desserts aisle. While I was walking, this random dude came up to me and offered to buy a gallon of pecans and cream(or something like that) ice cream for me.
I said no, but he kept insisting and then talked about how much he loved the ice cream flavor. He apparently has eaten it every day ever since he was 20 (He said he was 70) and wants to one day form a religion based around ice cream where every Wednesday, they’d gather in a circle and eat a gallon each.
For the purpose of this story, my name is “Buster.”I was visiting my brother, who lived in a fairly big city at the time. He lived in a townhome amongst a bunch of other townhomes which all look identical.
I got in late on a very delayed flight and made my way there on my own. My brother left the door unlocked for me so I could make my way in without waking up his family.
I am exhausted when I arrive and open the door, and start heading up the stairs. The door at the top of the stairs opens, and I figure it’s my brother, who I’ve woken up.
I hear a voice shouting, “Buster, get back! YOU STAY THERE!” he yells this a few times and turns the lights on. I’m starting at a man in his 70s in his underwear, terrified, and a little barking dog is trying to attack me.
I am terribly confused as to who this person is, why he’s in my brother’s house and why he knows my name and is yelling at me. After a few moments of exchanges, it occurs to me that my brother doesn’t have a dog and that he is yelling at the dog, named Buster, and that I’ve entered the wrong house.
I try to stumble through and apologize and just back away. My brother was pretty amused by it all, but I felt horrible for scaring that guy.
Not sure if this is the strangest, but fresh in my mind. Bought a Honda Odyssey for the family car. Had a guy stop me in a parking lot, maybe mid to late 50s, and asked me if I wanted to join his Odyssey Club.
He then proceeded to tell me it’s more of a cult and I can’t have any felonies but must be willing to commit one. He was clearly joking about that but dead serious about the club. I regret not finding out more, but I was just so confused at the time.
My family and I were traveling cross-country and stopped in this tiny rural coffee shop for lunch. The waitress came out to take our order, she took one look at me and said, “Hey Kim, how’s your mom doing?
I said, “I’m sorry, I think you’re mistaking me for someone else, I don’t live around here, and I’m not Kim.” She kept insisting that I was just joking around and teasing her. This went on for quite some time until I had to convince her with my driver’s license that I was not the person that she knew.
She was blown away and said I could be a twin to this person that she knew, as I look exactly like Kim, talk like Kim, everything.
Two that happened to my best friend years ago.
1. He’s walking across campus, and some guy walks up to him, holding an unwrapped Twinkie. He puts it close to my friend’s face and says, “Look at it! Look at it! YOU CAN SEE THE PRESERVATIVES!”
2. He’s in the men’s room in the physics building after an astronomy seminar. Some guy comes in and stands next to him at the urinal, staring at him, and says, “The Earth is flat. You know it is.”
And one that happened to me. I’m in a restaurant in Washington, DC, a thousand miles from home. It’s my first time in the District, I’m eating alone, so I decided to sit at the bar instead of taking up a table.
A man my age sits down next to me, somehow, we get to talking, and long story short, my mom was one of his mom’s bridesmaids, and I’m named after his grandfather.
Working as a nurse in a nursing home suburb of Boston. One day one of my residents get a visit from two elderly residents.
One is his friend, the other a stranger to him, who gave his friend a ride (they were in their 90’s and only one of them drove).
The driver started a conversation with me while his friend visited with his friend. He asked me where I was from, parents, grandparents. Told him my mother was originally from Dorchester Boston.
He asked me which part. I said Ashmont station area, ocean Street. He asked me if my grandfathers name was Hugh. I told him yes and my grandfathers last name.
He then named all my aunts and uncles names, including my mothers and asked me who’s child I was. Turns out this man, who drove his friend into the country to visit a dying friend, was my grandfathers business partner (who I never met).
My grandfather had died about 15 years before. What a small world. I couldn’t wait to get home from work to call my mother and update her that I met Saul Goldman. (She remembered him and his family fondly).
Made me happy to be alive. I know he enjoyed meeting me as well. It was as if thru both he and I, my grandfather came back alive for a few minutes, just then.
I had just moved halfway across the country for work. After a couple of months there, my great-grandmother passed just before her 101st birthday. I got an early morning flight back to my home state.
The lady next to me was probably just near retirement age. I wasn’t crying, but just keeping to myself as one does when traveling with things on their mind.
Once we were able to let our trays down, I dropped mine and laid my head and arms on the tray, and just watched the city lights out the window. For nearly the entire flight, this woman started rubbing my back and told me everything would be okay.
I normally hate being touched, and honestly don’t seek comfort very often. But that was one of the most comforting things that’s ever happened, and I just let it happen. So wholesome and strange I guess.
Quick background: I’m from the UK, I’m a recovering alcoholic (nearly 4 months sober now), and used to sit in this beach shelter at night after work and drink 8-10 beers.
One night this guy came over holding a glass of wine and randomly started chatting with me. He said he regularly jogs past that shelter in the mornings and picks up the empty beer cans, and bins them.
He basically got me to admit it was me, he knew my name and where I’d bought the beers. This freaked me out at first, but it turns out he’d been picking up the receipts id been leaving there, which had my name and the shop location on cos of my club card.
Anyway, he basically went on to ask why I drank so much and if there was anything that had happened in my life to make me live that way. For some reason, I told him some of the dark secrets from my past that made me turn to drink.
It turns out he was a policeman, and not just any policeman, but the one who arrested Roy Whiting (the killer of Sarah Payne), and after a bit of a conversation he told me about himself, and what he said to me I’ll never forget.
He said, “I have 4 kids, and you never know, you could be number 5,” and that hit me hard. A random stranger just decided to talk to me and offer me a love that he somehow knew I’d never been given. Well, fast forward a year or so, and I no longer drink, we stay in contact on Facebook and whenever I see him around, we have a hug and a catch up. He always beeps me when he drives past. Thank you, Paul.
I work in a hospital on the third floor. One evening I was washing up in the coffee room, the sink is next to a window. It was getting dark, and I glanced out the window, and at exactly the same time, a woman on the other side of the street glanced up at my window.
I decided to wave, and as I raised my hand she simultaneously raised hers. We both had a little chuckle about it and went on with our lives. The whole thing took about 5 seconds, but I still think about it.
A few years ago, I was renting a house in Northern California…. I got home from work one day in mid-winter. When I got out of my car, I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. That was odd, as I had never smelled that before around that house. I didn’t see anyone nearby, so I ignored it and went inside…
I woke up sometime later, sure that I had heard a noise inside my house… I reached over to my bedside table and picked up my cell phone… The bright light from my phone’s screen and number pad blinded me…. Through squinted eyes, I could make out that it was 9-something.
There were a couple of seconds of silence before I heard loud footfalls as someone started running through the bottom floor of my house. I leapt out of bed and ran to the closet. They were already up the stairs by the time I had opened the door and stepped inside…. I heard whoever was in my house thunder down the hallway past my door and into the bathroom. That gave me enough time to open the attic access in the ceiling of my closet and hoist myself up.
I had just started to lift myself up when the person ran back out of the bathroom. My feet were barely inside of the attic when my bedroom door burst open. I heard footsteps run into my room and stop. When they didn’t see me in that room, they ran back to the hallway and into the other room, which just had boxes stacked in a corner, some weights, and a table…
I guess they decided that if someone were hiding, it would be in the bedroom, because they charged back into my room and turned on the light. A moment later, the closet door was ripped open.
From my vantage point, all I could see was from about their knee down. They were wearing dirty blue jeans with frayed cuffs and worn work boots. After a few seconds of looking in the closet, they stepped away, and I heard a loud crash come from my room, followed by a scream of frustration and anger…
They ran back down the stairs. I heard crashes and clatters as things were thrown around and furniture was knocked over…. After some time, the noises stopped. I started counting slowly. When I reached 1,000, I decided it was safe enough to climb down and call the police.
The first thing I noticed when I exited the closet was the intruder had flipped my bed over. I assume in an attempt to find me.
I was 16 and visiting my friends down the road. It was maybe a three-to-five-minute walk from my apartment. It’s about 9 pm, and I’m walking home.
Being a female, I feel I have to be more alert to things around me when walking at night. I notice a man on the other side of the road walking in the same direction as me.
I pay no attention to it because that’s not unusual. After a minute, he crosses the road and is now walking behind me. I start to get uncomfortable, and a slight wave of anxiety washes over me.
I start walking a little faster, and that’s when I hear the “wshh wshh” of his legs rubbing against his windbreaker pants, and the wshhing is getting faster.
No matter how many times I try to walk a little faster, so does he. When I get to the end of the road where I have to turn, I run a little once I’m out of his line of sight.
At this point, I’m not even a minute from my apartment. I finally get there, I rush inside the doors, and I spam the buzzer to get let in.
I look out the window of the door, and the man is stopped on the sidewalk, three cars from me. (The “parking lot” was six spaces, three on each side.) He’s just looking at me, and I’m panicking. He starts walking towards me.
I finally get buzzed in and I run inside. I slam the locked door behind me just as he reaches the front door and ran as fast as I could up the three flights of stairs.
I was terrified. The moments spent… waiting to get buzzed in felt like a lifetime, and the image of him walking towards me at the door is one I’ll never forget. It felt like something out of a movie.
This story happened a year or so ago. A friend and I were at school in Lausanne, a peaceful town in Switzerland where nothing happens usually, but one day, in an English lesson, someone knocked on the classroom door.
It was an old lady who claimed to be my friend’s grandma. She had a very clearly fake Italian accent, and my friend is Italian. Our teacher told her to leave because she wasn’t allowed to be here during school.
At the five-minute break, we opened the door to go outside, and she was still there. My friend told her that he knew both of his grandparents and that she wasn’t one of them.
She said that she came back from the hospital and really wanted him to leave school early with her, and then she tried to take him in her arms without success.
Another friend asked if she was my friend’s dad’s mother, and she started saying again and again that she was… We told our teacher to help us, and she told her to leave, and after a moment, she did.
We went back in our classroom, and the teacher said that she would go outside with him in case the woman was waiting outside after school, but she wasn’t.
We don’t know how she knew my friend’s name, his classroom, or the fact that he was Italian, but we never heard of her again.
Sometimes we joke with him like, “How’s your grandma?” and stuff, but it is genuinely frightening…. We still don’t have a single clue about who she was.
This happened a couple of months ago, in December of last year. I started working a new job in the mall and had to work for most of Boxing Day. I was done at 10 pm, and transit seemed to have ended at 7 pm…
I decided to call an Uber, and the driver picked me up right in front of the mall. We had a casual conversation during the drive back, and he learned about where I worked and how I’m living on my own for the time being since my roommates went to their hometowns.
Fast forward to the next day at work: Around 6 pm, this driver walks into the store and tries to strike up a conversation with me, but I told him I had to get back to work.
He also asked if we could hang out later, to which I said no, and he left. At the end of that shift (10 pm), I walked out of the store, planning to take transit. As soon I stepped out of the store, the driver immediately pulled up next to me and offered to give me a free ride back home.
After going back and forth with me declining and him saying it was free, I decided to walk away and caught a bus home.
I was pretty overwhelmed by the fact that he showed up at my workplace and waited three hours until I was done with work to offer me a ride home. I’ve reported this to Uber, and they’ve notified me that they suspended this driver.
They provided me with a full refund and gave me a link to provide to the police if I plan on filing a report.
A couple of summers ago, my family didn’t have a car, so I’d take a bus to the pool in our old neighborhood to see my friends. The pool building was under construction, so I would change in the woods if I needed to (bad idea, but 15-year-old me was a dumba**).
Anyway, one day I got there before anyone else and started swimming laps in the pool. This pool was outdoors and built into a hill.
Well, imagine my surprise when I came up for air to find a man standing on the hill on the opposite side of the fence, holding a camera aimed at me! I was the only person in the pool, and the camera was definitely pointed in my direction.
As soon as I stood still, he realized that I had caught him and he flew back down the hill.
Last year, my brother and sister-in-law had bought my husband and I a climbing experience in Wales, so we all decided to go and make a weekend of it – get an Airbnb, do some climbing, walks in Snowdonia, etc.
In the evening, my husband and I drove to the nearest town and picked up a takeaway. It was probably about a 15-minute drive, and it’s quite an old part of Wales, so the whole town is mostly narrow one-way streets.
We were driving out of the town and on our way back to the main carriageway when we see this guy pacing quickly on the side of the road. He sees us driving towards him and immediately jumps out into the road.
By this point, we’re doing around 15 miles an hour, so we could see if he needed help. We started to gather that he clearly wasn’t someone in trouble, as you’d usually just wave or stick your hand out.
As we got closer, I could see he had one hand behind his back and a really weird smile on his face. This alarmed us. It was quiet, so my husband drove on the other side of the road to avoid him, but he runs out in front of our car again.
My husband swerved back to the left side of the road and we avoided him, but not before he tries to grab the door handle and get into the car. Thankfully, we sped up, and he didn’t manage to get in.
I was really freaked out, so we kept driving, and luckily he didn’t try and pursue us. As I looked behind us to check, he was just standing and staring at us with something big in his hand.
I couldn’t make out what it was, but it must have been what he was hiding behind him. It was a residential area, and people were out in town…. The moment we were all clear, I called the police, and they sent someone out. Hopefully, no one was harmed.
This is a story about a man named John, who I met while working retail. John is an older white man in his mid-50s, well-dressed, well-spoken, shoulder-length steel gray hair in a low ponytail, tied back.
At the time, I was working at a farm and pet supply store. I was called over to help a customer look at electric fences and shock collars for dogs (which I am steadfastly against, but I had to help the customer).
I asked him what I could help him with, and he said he was interested in an electric fence for his dogs since he had a cabin in the woods and wanted to make sure they didn’t get away. He said, “Oh yes… I’m looking to use this shock collar… maybe on you…?”
Thoroughly creeped out, I tried to laugh it off and tell him no, thank you. I finally got him someone who knew more than I did and thought that would be the end of it. Of course, it wasn’t.
The next time he saw me, he said, “I have been looking for you. I bought what I wanted, but I wanted to slap you the next time I saw you!” I told him if he ever hit me, I’d absolutely hit him back. So then, a few days later, he told me he would really, really like to take me out to lunch one day. I politely declined.
He would come into the store and look for me. I’d see him before he saw me. One day, I saw him first. I hid until I thought he’d left, but no, he found me back in my department.
He said, “Just so you know, I’m not dressed up for you today. I have a meeting with the bank, but if I didn’t, I would be taking you out for lunch. You know, I can tell you dyed your hair. You look so beautiful, but that doesn’t mean anything to you, does it? It might mean something if you liked me back.”
He was never banned from the store, even after one of my managers heard him say these things to me, but my coworkers would tell me when he was in the store and help me get away from him until he left. I haven’t seen him since I quit, and I am so thankful.
Yesterday I was awoken at 6:30 am with banging on my door. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop. It went on for five minutes. I reluctantly opened it, and there was a man and a woman.
The woman asked me if she could have a plastic (grocery) bag. I looked puzzled, as it was such an odd request, and why would she be banging on my door for it?
I got a strange feeling, so I said no and closed and locked the door. Later that day, my landlord send me a video of the SAME LADY trying to break into her house.
So obviously, I was spooked. It got worse when I was driving back home last night. I saw a person walking about 200 yards away. I knew it was her, but I had to know for sure, so I drove past.
I was right. She tried to run in front of my car, acting as if she was in trouble or running from something and asking for my help. Police have been contacted and are patrolling more in my area.
Keep in mind, I was 13 when this happened, but I looked much younger, like 11… I was at my family doctor’s with my mom because she wasn’t feeling too good, and she wanted to go get checked out.
I went to see her straight after I was done with school, but my mom wanted me to go back to our house to unlock the door for my younger brother, who went to a different school than I did.
I left and was waiting for the elevator with this kinda sketchy-looking old man. He was kind of looking at me but trying to be nonchalant about it. Lucky us, the elevator was broken, so we both had to take the stairs.
We were on the very first floor and had to go around seven floors down to the main exit. This was one of those stairwells that had a million flights and had super heavy, thick, closed doors.
I went into the stairwell first, and then him. The second the door closed behind him, he started running down the stairs at me. I ran, too, and I grabbed my keys in my hand and put them between my fingers in case I needed to use them as a weapon.
He was running really fast, and I almost stumbled a couple of times, but I made it to the bottom of the stairs and out of the stairwell. I ran out of the building and away as fast as my legs would carry me, and I stopped at the sidewalk to see if the man was still following me. He wasn’t…
So I get back to my house and let my brother in. I went back to the doctor’s office after that, but my mom wasn’t in the waiting room anymore, so I just sat waiting for her. The old man was back there, though, and he was giving me creepy, shifty glances, and I was really sketched out.
When I was 17(F), my older sister (23) took me to the mall to get a cell phone. The guy who sold it to us, who was probably in his early 20s, showed us several options, let me pick the phone, choose from a selection of numbers… set us up with a plan, and we left.
Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary until I got a text saying, “Hey, it’s the guy who sold you your new phone.” I replied with I’m not sure what; I was young and naive, and this was 13 years ago.
What I remember is that he kept texting me and calling me. Kept telling me how attractive I was and that we should be together.
I told him it wasn’t a good time for me since I was about to leave for the entire summer. He asked where I was going and offered to come along. I didn’t have any hard plans and was going to live out of my car, so I definitely didn’t want a stranger to ride along.
Thought it was odd that he would quit his job and leave the state on a whim for a girl he only spoke to in-person for around 15 minutes. I told him I thought this was creepy, and I asked him to… stop calling and texting. He kept calling, I kept not answering. We had to file a complaint and change my number.
I went to my neighborhood 7-11 to get cigarettes… I’d just shut the door to my car and put on my seatbelt when a man walked up to my window. He was smiling and motioning for me to roll the window down.
He obviously wasn’t an employee, so I smiled, shook my head no, and started my car. He didn’t take the hint. He was still standing there looking at me while I was waiting for him to move so I could back out of the parking space.
…I saw him REACH FOR MY DOOR HANDLE! Almost in slow motion and in a split second, I slapped the lock down, yelled, “NO!” and laid on the horn. This was very good advice from a friend once: If you’re in danger, lock the doors and lay on the horn.
I almost heard my friend’s voice in my head while I did it. The creepiest thing is that the guy looked taken aback, confused. He looked at me like, “What? What’s the matter?” And then just kinda walked away.
I watched him walk down the block before I left to make sure he didn’t come back. He was a normal-looking guy, too. Didn’t look strung out or aggressive, but LOOK OUT. Those are the ones that get you.
My best friend at the time, my little brother, his best friend, and I were hanging out by the high school in town. I was a freshman, and my brother was three years younger than me, aged 14 and 11, respectively, along with our friends.
We lived right by the high school and would always go up there and hang out and goof around… We were hanging around where the construction was going on at the time… It was right by the entrance to the school, like the road/driveway where you pull into the parking lot.
It’s basically a straight shot down the road to where you pull in. The road goes all the way to the bottom of the hill, and we were about ready to walk home.
As we were getting on our way, we see this guy from the bottom of the hill gas his way all the way up, gunning right for us. We all scatter and jump out of the way, and as he’s about to run right over my brother, he slams on the brakes and just stops on the curve right before he can get to him.
We all are like, “What the f*ck,” and the man gets out of his car and just says one line: “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” What am I supposed to do with that? This man straight-up confused my brother with another 11-year-old child he was trying to murder or abduct.
I was driving home late one night. There were virtually no cars on the road. Eventually, I noticed a cop car had zoomed up close behind me as if to pull me over. Only something was off.
I couldn’t tell how long it had actually been behind me because there was no siren, and none of the lights were on – not the little police laptop, not even the headlights.
In any event, realizing a cop was riding my tail, I pulled over. I was an 18- or 19-year-old black kid who had just moved from the inner city, so my instinct was to comply, but looking back, I definitely should’ve kept driving.
Anyway, sure enough, the patrol car pulled over behind me. But whoever was in the patrol car didn’t get out, and they didn’t turn on the lights or the siren, either.
The only illumination was a few of those sickly yellow halogen streetlamps a block or so away, and with no passing cars, I couldn’t see into the patrol car, so all I could see was a hardly discernible silhouette in the driver’s seat.
I sat there for a while. I don’t remember how long, but it had to have been around five minutes in near-total silence. I remember just being puzzled at first. I think I even said, “What the ****” under my breath a few times, but I just sat there staring into the dark patrol car through my rearview.
And then my brain began to turn over. There was a creeping feeling that I was in danger, and it clicked that I was either being pranked or I was about to be subjected to something much worse.
Finally, I calmly started my engine and pulled away. The patrol car didn’t follow.
I was watching my daughter’s kids while she and her husband went out of town. They have a teenage daughter (let’s say her name is Alyssa). At like 3 am, I’m woken up by a weird rustling sound and look out the window and see movement.
I saw a boy emerge from the bushes on the side of the house and a bike tossed on the lawn that definitely wasn’t ours. So I went out on the porch, flipped the lights on, and said, “Can I help you?” in my classroom voice.
The guy looked surprised but not nervous. He was wearing a letterman-style jacket, but once I got a clear view of him in the streetlights, he seemed much older than my granddaughter. Gruff. And more wiry than athletic.
He walked up closer to the house and said, “Yeah, I’m looking for Alyssa.” I gave him a disapproving glare, but I’m thinking what must’ve happened is Alyssa knew her parents were going out of town, and maybe before she knew I’d be staying over told a secret older boyfriend to come over.
So I said, “I’m sorry. Who?” And he said, “Alyssa. You know, Alyssa Lastname. This is her house.” I thought he knew her full name, they must be at least friends.
I said, “You wait there.” He started to walk up, and I felt a sick burning in my gut. Instinct kicked in. I yelled, “NO. STOP. FREEZE.” Then readjusted and said, “You stay right there. This is private property. Don’t take a step closer. Wait. There.”
So I go in, and Alyssa is asleep just one room over from where the rustling first occurred. I wake her up and say something to the effect of, “I don’t know what the big idea was to have friends over this time of night, but you tell them to go home.” She has no clue what I’m talking about.
I say, “There’s a guy outside asking for you.” Confused, she gets up and goes to the window. She sees him and goes white as a sheet. “He asked for me?” “Yeah.” “By name?” “Yes.” “Call the police. I’ve never seen him in my life.”
I called 9-1-1 immediately, but as I was on the phone with them, Alyssa started tugging at my arm. “He’s coming up!” I had younger kids in the house to think about, so I kept the door latched… and yelled, “I asked my husband and none of us know an Alyssa Lastname. Leave my property or I’m calling 9-1-1.”
He got angry and started yelling for her to come out. Thankfully, the police came pretty quickly, and when he heard the sirens, he grabbed the bike and ran off. I watched where he was running, and he jumped into the passenger side of a car without headlights or front plates and sped off.
When I was 19 in the early ’90s, my brother and his wife were newly married and living in Baltimore. I was from Maryland, but had not yet spent time in that city.
I knew it wasn’t totally safe in parts, but I also knew that I was just going straight to my brother and sister-in-law’s house, so it would be fine.
Until I turned onto the wrong street. This was MLK Blvd., and back then, it was a stretch of abandoned gas stations, sketchy bars, boarded-up houses… A few people were walking in the middle of the street drinking out of paper bags.
I knew that I had messed up, so instead of freaking out and getting more lost, I pulled into an abandoned gas station. There was a bank of pay phones, and I parked about 10 feet from them, hopped out, and called my brother.
He was impatient at first because he knew the city quite well, but it was my first time driving in it, and I was trying to write down his directions as he gave them to me. Just then, something caught my eye, and I looked over at my car. Three men were leaning against it.
Two on the passenger side, one against the driver’s-side front door. They were all staring at me with their arms crossed. I started to silently cry, thankful that I had on sunglasses.
My brother heard me sniffling and said, “Why are you upset? I’m giving you directions!” but I couldn’t tell him what was going on, as the men were within earshot. I got the rest of the directions, put them in my pocket, and walked to my car.
The man leaning against my door reached up and wiped the tears from one cheek. Then he said, “Why you cryin’, baby? Nothing bad has happened yet.”
Without even thinking about it, I responded, fully sobbing now: “I just shot my boyfriend, and I’m in a lot of trouble. The cops are-” That’s all I got out. The three men had all taken off in separate directions at full sprints, away from me.
If I hadn’t been gifted with that lie from my guardian angels or whomever saved my a** that day, who knows what would have happened.
One night, around 3 am, I was dead asleep with my ex-boyfriend next to me. All of a sudden, I hear someone IN my house asking if anyone was home.
I woke up my ex and told him to go see what the hell was going on. He was a total chicken sh*t and made me go. I get out of bed, can’t find my glasses, but the guy is still shouting.
I come out of my bedroom in my pajamas and see there is a big bald dude in what looks to be a police uniform standing in my entryway. I’m squinting, trying to get a good look at him, and he looks at me and says, “I just wanted to tell you that your door was left unlocked, and you should lock it.”
I mumble something to the effect of “Uh, thanks?” and he leaves my apartment. I’m still as blind as a bat, but I see that he walks away instead of getting into a car. (No policeman would be policing the woodsy area I live in on foot)
The next day I called the local police station and asked if any officers had reported this incident, and they said they would check with the on-duty officers and get back to me. They called me the next day and said no one had done this.
I still get freaked out when I think about this happening, and I wish I knew what that guy was up to.
This story is 100% true, I experienced it myself in the Summer of 1991.
When I was about 10 years old, I lived on Woodway Drive in the Fox Harbor Apartments in Paducah, KY. If you look up the address, you will see some woods just to the north of the apartment complex.
My friends and I played in those woods every day after school and all day on the weekends. Through the few years I lived there, we cleared a small area in the woods and created a fort from various things we got out of dumpsters.
It was our own place that no one else knew about, and it was awesome. One day as we were walking to our fort, off in the distance we saw a man walking through the woods.
He was walking parallel to us, but in the opposite direction – like cars traveling on the road, but with about 70 – 80 yards separating our paths. We stopped talking and stopped dead in our tracks when we saw him. We never saw anyone in the woods, especially not adults.
When we stopped moving, he did too. He turned towards us and looked right at us. As I stared at him and was able to make out the details of what he looked like, I noticed that he was wearing what looked like a Halloween mask (a generic mask, not Michael Myers) and carrying an axe in his hands.
We stood there in silence and motionless for what was probably about 10 seconds – he looking at us, and us looking at him. Then he started sprinting straight at us.
We did the only thing we apparently thought to do, run straight to our fort. We were probably about 50 yards from the entrance to the fort, and in those 50 yards, he gained a lot of ground on us.
When we finally made it, he was upon us. All of my friends scurried up a tree and were screaming, but I was the last in line. By the time I could try and climb the tree, he was standing right there by us. He was screaming like a lunatic and waving the axe in the air. I was scared, had no idea what was going on, and my mind was blank on what I should do.
I grabbed a large stick and took a nice big baseball bat swing, and cracked him on the face with it. He stumbled back a bit, moaned, and took the mask off. I recognized the face. It was the landlord and manager of the apartment complex.
A man who was probably about 50 years old. He wanted to play a joke on us and thought this was the most appropriate thing to do. He was a f*cking psycho.
I once got on a pretty crowded Bloor bus and thought I had begun a jovial conversation with a random guy. We said random drunk things to each other for a while, and it seemed as though we were getting along merrily.
Then we passed the shoe museum, where there was a gigantic pair of high-heeled shoes in a window display. ‘Whoa, what the f*ck are those?’ Said my new friend. ‘I dunno,’ I replied. ‘But I’d give her the dick.’
I thought this was funny. Because we were drunk and that was the kind of stupid talk we’d been talking the whole time, and because if someone actually existed to wear those shoes, she would have been 20 feet tall.
‘Yeah?’ he asked calmly. ‘How about I f*cking skin you?’ ‘Huh?’ I said. Confused at the sudden turn in our discourse. ‘I’m going to f*cking kill you and skin you alive!’ He shouted.
I am 6’4 and probably had 60lbs on him, but where a moment ago I had been happy and laughing, I was suddenly afraid. He crazied me into stunned and frightened silence.
As the bus made a normal stop, he leaped at me and started shoving me towards the door. Not like one big shove, but like a hundred little frantic shoves.
Bemused and startled, I just kind of let it happen and then watched as he stared at me through the window of the leaving bus.
I have no idea if he was wasted or crazy or just randomly decided to mess with me. But in the future, I know to be more careful when I suggest that I would enjoy intercourse with giant imaginary women.
I was sitting at a bus stop next to an older man in rumpled slacks and a white dress shirt.
I had seen him a few times before because we took a similar route. I rode one bus in particular that he was usually on to get to some summer classes that I was taking at the local public college.
He’d made eye contact on occasion and said things like “You look very nice,” or “Your hair is very pretty today.” I honestly thought he was a very sweet old man being harmless and friendly and it made my afternoon a couple of times.
On this particular day, my bus was nowhere to be seen, and I’d been sitting there next to him for several minutes. All we’d said to each other was “hi,” so I started a conversation with him.
Immediately he began telling me about his experiences in the Vietnam War, and it became readily apparent that he was very mentally disturbed. He claimed that he heard God’s voice telling him, “Moses, I call you to this war to atone for your people,” and that he immediately enlisted, but not before, a night of passion with his then-girlfriend, who he described as a “Chinese hippy.”
He then went on to describe in very explicit detail the physical characteristics of the various Vietnamese women he had slept with over the course of the war. And then about his girlfriends of varied Asian descent when he returned from the war.
The universal defining characteristic that he never failed to mention was long black hair. “Long black hair” — while pointing at my head, immediately followed by “Loooong black hair” — while pointing at my crotch.
I am a 90 lb Asian female who was, at the time, wearing a sundress and carrying a bag of cookies I had just purchased.
I gave him a cookie and got on the first bus that came by. We were alone at that stop for maybe 45 minutes.
When I was around 12, a neighbor had a party where I met a girl my age. My mom was happy to see me making friends so we head to my house to play games. My dog was a sweet lab who had never been angry or growled ever.
This girl walks up to him to pet him, and he immediately growls and barks, and eventually cowers close to me. I couldn’t believe it, but even by 12, I believed you don’t just ignore a dog’s intuition.
So I take note of the sign but we go play and then go for a walk. Not 10 minutes into the conversation, and this girl is an obvious sociopath. I realized what the dog and I had felt about her.
She was empty and fake in a very visceral way. She starts talking about sexual assault. Not in a ‘maybe she was abused’ way. In a ‘doesn’t that sound interesting, but how do the logistics work’ kind of way.
She specifically wondered how you assault someone while holding a knife to their neck. Her parents invited me to spend the night at her house. I declined.
I was 17 and just entering my rebellious phase. I had gone to homecoming with a new group of friends. I was the only one old enough to drive and had full use of my mother’s car, a brand-new VW bug.
(Admittedly, I was spoiled.) I gave my parents some bullsh*t, “all-girls slumber party after the dance” story and they totally bought it. I had a car, I had the whole night, and I had friends to impress.
Of course, there was the typical dance after-party lined up, and we went with bells on. There was a boy that I was sort of interested in. I was the (2 years) older woman, and he didn’t drive yet.
After I dropped my friends at the party, I went to pick up my love interest. I grew up in a very rural area of Southern Maryland. There are long stretches of road with very little activity.
As I was making the 25-minute drive my car suddenly started shaking, and I had to steer it off the road as the smoke had started to come out of the hood. I pulled over a little frantic as I was about to be caught in a lie because obviously the car was broken and I was not where I was supposed to be.
I was also alone because the girls had decided to hang at the party so I could go pick up my guy friend. I got out and started to pop the hood to investigate the source of the smoke. In the distance, I saw a pair of headlights. As naive as I was at 17, I assumed that I could get help from the car that was approaching.
The car pulled up. It was over 10 years ago, but I still remember the little Celica with three men who looked like they had just won the lottery. They slowed to a stop next to my car. They never said anything.
They just started to unbuckle their seat belts. Suddenly red and blue lights cut through our field of vision, and we both looked in the direction of the state trooper who was pulling up behind us. I’ll never forget her.
She just glared at the men in the car, confirming that the dread that had been rising in me was totally justified. As quickly as their perverted hopes were dashed, they were gone.
She asked me if I was ok and waited with me until my mom came to pick me up.
I once lived in a sort of bad neighborhood in a very tiny house with my brother, who was rarely there. Old house, so it was a little creepy, and also felt like anyone who wanted to could have broken in.
One night I was getting ready for bed, it was pretty late and during a hot summer. We didn’t have A/C, so I had one of those two fan window deals. The blinds were pulled down to the top of the fan.
I was changing for bed, I sleep in underwear and a t-shirt. I slipped out of my pants and changed my shirt. I don’t wear a bra to bed. I am about to hop into bed when I hear a low, masculine voice say, ” Let’s see those breasts again.”
I think my whole body stopped working for 5 seconds while I absorbed the fact that there was a creepy peeping tom right outside my window, and I was alone in a house that he could get into if he wanted.
It was the first and only time I called 911. I had a panic attack waiting for the police, and the very nice 911 lady had to calm me down. Bright note, apparently, it was a slow night because they sent 3 cars. I was so happy when I moved.
When I was quite young, I was out at the park walking my dog (German Shepherd) when I realized it was getting quite late, and I was the only one left in the park.
A man dressed in a dark hooded top and a black scarf covering his face jumped the fence that leads into the alleyway behind the park and started marching towards me, but he hadn’t spotted my dog, who was off sniffing around or doing whatever dogs do.
My dog got between us, though and there was a kind of stand-off for a while. My dog was really tense and growling with his hackles raised, and I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t know if my dog was going to attack the man, so I just kind of froze. After a while, the man backed away, jumped back over the fence, and ran away down the alley. I put my dog back on his lead and went home, but he was still tense the whole way back.
I was a little freaked out, but perhaps not as afraid as I should have been, looking back on it now. I didn’t know what that man wanted, or what he was doing there, or what would have happened if my dog wasn’t there with me.
There would have been no reason for him to go into that park by himself and come towards me like that. I shudder to think about it. I think if the man had made a move towards me, my dog would have attacked him.
My brother came into town on business and invited me to bar-hop on his expense account. I let my wife know not to wait up and met up with him once I got off work.
We spent the night going from bar to bar, catching up on what had been going on in our lives until the last bar closed (around 2-3 am). Then we stumbled back to his hotel room and passed out.
I woke up the next morning around 7 am and went home. My wife had already left so I didn’t see her. An hour or so later she called me and asked where I had gone so early that morning. I was confused cause I didn’t get home until after she had left for work. I explained this to her and she got really scared.
She explained that around 12:30-1 am she heard a key in the front door and the door opening. She sat up in bed and saw a male figure come in (who she assumed was me) and go into the living room. She assumed that I had just decided to sleep on the couch rather than come into the room and risk waking her up.
So she just rolled over and went to sleep. A few hours later (around 5-6 am), she heard someone moving around downstairs again, and then the front door opened and she watched the person leave and heard the door lock.
She thought I was heading out and just rolled back over to sleep again. We called a lock-smith and had the locks changed that day.
In Toronto there is a subway system run by the TTC or Toronto Transit Commission. They often square off certain parts of the subway route (Which is pretty fucking basic) in order to do some upgrades or fix bits.
Lately, they’ve been shutting down the subway rides into downtown on the weekends. Anyway, they were doing some upgrades on the track, and we were going by pretty slow making sure not to run over anyone while they scampered out of the way.
Out of nowhere, the power cut out. Now, I should say that I wasn’t the only one in the train car. The cars are decently long and I was at one end, and some woman was at the other end.
When I walked onto the train it was up at her end where there was a giant bubble of seats empty around her. She was displaying the typical signs of Batsh*t Crazy and people sort of avoided her.
Everyone else was off, getting off at Yonge, but I still had another couple of stops east to go. She was laughing audibly, and I tried to tune it out by listening to some music, but it never really worked.
It was so chilling that my brain sort of just kept ignoring the music and focusing on her, so eventually I just unplugged the music and sat back, trying not to crap my pants.
So anyway, the power cuts out and here I am sitting at one end, as far away from her as I could possibly be, and the lights turn off for some reason.
She stopped laughing.
In fact, she stopped making any noise at all.
When the lights came back on about 5 seconds later, when I had sufficiently crapped my pants, she wasn’t at the far end. She was about 3 seats away from me.
Staring at me.
The second the train stopped, I bolted for the door.
After she ‘relocated,’ she didn’t make another sound, she just kept staring. The creepiest moment of my goddamn life.
One winter I was pushing my limits and winter camping a lot, but I had this crazy tent with a fireplace. The limits part was just the fact that I was solo and pretty remote in these places.
This was rural SW colorado canyon country, there wasn’t that much snow at all on the ground, but it was 0 degrees F that night. Well, it was a full moon, and I was restless, so at about 2 am I got out of my tent (fire still going) and went for a long walk.
I ended up climbing up some stuff that was probably a quarter or half mile from my tent/vehicle but up above it so I could see down on my tent and campsite clearly. It was really beautiful down there, dimly lit from the inside by the stove’s fire and dimly lit from the outside by the big moon.
I was enjoying myself and just about to head back down when I heard distant gravel crunching. I had been there since noon that day, and not a single vehicle had driven past, so I was kind of put off and decided to stay up there until they drove passed.
The noise grows louder (amazing how far away you can heard in the canyons at night) slowly and eventually I can see that it is a car on the same road so I stay put and watch.
It’s going really slow, I can see a lighter being used quite a bit (i’m not saying they were smoking meth, but they were smoking meth). And it’s something like a 89 caprice or something.
Like the old cop cars, and really crappy. So I’m just watching, still in a very wistful mood and feeling somewhat powerful from my perch. They near the bend where they’ll be able to see my tent and round the corner.
Brake lights. They slow way down and seem to pause at my tent for an eternity. Probably only a minute or so, but now I was on high alert and pretty nerve-wracking. I had no kind of anything weapon wise on me, just a hatchet down by the tent for firewood.
But they drive on. I’m pretty relieved but still shaken, now thinking about what if they come back. So I decide to chill for a little longer and make sure I see them exit. Nope. They turned around down the road and came back. I watched as they parked a ways down the road and got out and started walking down the road towards my camp.
It was such bright moonlight with slick rocks all around that I could see this all happening SOMEWHAT clearly but I couldn’t make out much more than the basic scenes and there were still lots of big shadows.
I proceed to watch for quite a while as they approach my tent, look all around the outside, look in the vents (where it probably looked like I was sleeping, the bag was in there with bedding), mess with my vehicle, and then walk back to their car and leave.
I pretty much stayed up there until just before dawn and only came down when I knew I could break camp and bail. There were footprints in the snow on the outside of my tent and I kept imagining what it would have been like to have just woken up and not known what happened, just see the footprints.
After that, I started carrying A) a spot locator beacon B) battery-powered motion detector alarm C) a shotgun. And I started using a much smaller tent, and sometimes I even camp in a bivy 20 or 30 feet away from my tent and just put my pack in the tent. This way if someone starts messing with the “honeypot” I have enough time to get some awareness and do the right thing.
In my Senior year of high school, me and three of my friends went up to this tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere in Michigan that my friend’s grandpa owns.
Now by the middle of nowhere, I’d say this is probably the most remote location I’ve ever accessed by car, about 30 miles out, we lost cell phone service, google maps didn’t have a map of the location, there were no street signs, and the roads barely qualified as such.
The last leg of the drive was one single “road” that went for maybe 5 miles with no intersections and ended at the cabin and nothing else. Anyways, cut to the next evening, we have been swimming and drinking a few beers at this nearby pond, but it’s getting pretty dark, so we decide we need to head back.
We get close to the cabin and realize that not only is the light on, but the door is open, and there is the creepiest-looking dude I’ve ever seen just kind of standing there looking out the door in our direction.
Sensing danger, we immediately bolt and get as far away as possible, none of us can sleep, and we don’t have cell phone service to call 911, so we basically just hide and freak the fuck out all night long.
The next morning we work up the courage to go back to the cabin where the door is still open, we rush inside, grab our stuff, take note of the fact that nothing is missing (we had laptops, iPods, liquor, etc. there) and that the panel to the crawl space/attic area is open, get in the car, and drive all the way back to Ohio.
To this day, I have no idea who he was and why he happened to be in the middle of absolutely nowhere looking through the cabin we were staying in, but to this day, I refuse to go camping, etc/ anywhere too far from civilization.
My sister’s bedroom was on the second floor. All of a sudden, she screamed and said she saw a hand on her window.
We thought she was having a nightmare, told her to go back to bed. The next morning we found a ladder up against our house by her window.
During my first year of college, my brother (8 years older) lived about 2 blocks up the street from where my dorm was. This made it super easy to go over and hang out since we’ve always been close.
Well, this particular night, a Thursday, I think, I decide to head home a little early and leave his place at about 11. I step outside onto the street, and it is oddly empty. I can only see one other person in sight, and he’s directly across the street.
He was making all sorts of weird guttural noises and wigging out, but this being in the city, I see that all the time. So I just head left and think about putting in my headphones to listen to some music.
God damn glad I didn’t because the noise from the guy suddenly stops after I walked about 10 feet. The abrupt silence was unnerving, and I looked back over at him. He had stopped moving and was staring directly at me. Then he made a beeline across the street (wide quad lane, no cars, though) for me..
I picked up my pace and looked back once I reached the end of the block. He was about 70 feet away now and hobble/running like some kind of zombie. So I freak out and start running back to the dorms with him in hot pursuit, and now he’s making these slurping noises with his tongue and groaning.
As I near the door to the dorm, I hope to god that my security card works on the first swipe (it never did). I jumped the short 4 stairs and zipped my card as the guy is now about 25-30 feet away and still running.
The card reader flashes green, and I grab the door, rush inside, and slam it back closed behind me. A group of students are just about to go out the door, but I stop them and tell them to wait. The guy comes all the way up to the door and paces for a little bit outside before slinking back off into the darkness.
The thing about him that scared me the most was whenever I looked back, or when he was at the door, he had constant eye contact. I never want to see that hungry look in someone’s eyes again. Maybe he just wanted my gum.
After my Freshman year in college, a group of my friends rented an extremely large house. They had seven or eight people living there, so between rent and utilities each person had to pony up $125 a month. Even in the mid nineties it was dirt cheap.
But, because everyone was blowing all their money on beer, they were always throwing parties to make rent. One of the guys didn’t want to deal with it and moved out.
About two weeks later, I come over, and one of my buddies introduces me to the new roommate will call him Big Henry. Big Henry lived up to his name. He had been in the military, got shot in the ass, and got discharged. That is all he would say on the subject.
Big Hank had a friend, lets call him “Psycho Joe”. Psycho Joe was an ex-military sniper. The story I heard was that he was discharged on a section 8 after his last mission was a failure. He had his target in his sights, pulled the trigger and had a young child walk into the line of fire.
Joe had issues, to say the least. One night my friends are throwing a kegger and Joe got pretty drunk. He started picking fights, and Big Hank kicked him out. It gets to be about 2 A.M., and I find a couch to crash on.
About 3 A.M. I am startled awake by what I though was a crack of thunder. I sit up and look out the window. It isn’t raining and I decide to go out and have a smoke before it starts getting heavy.
As I reach for the door, handle Big Henry tackles me. He informs me that Joe is outside and having an “episode.” The sound I heard wasn’t thunder. Joe had shot at the house. Next thing I know I have about twelve guys aged 18-24 debating on if we call the cops.
Have of us are hammered, and underage, and one of the roommates has a very large amount of narcotics in his closet. The last thing most of us need is the cops showing up.
While we are having this debate, Big Henry is going around checking windows for Joe. He slides downstairs and catches Psycho Joe sliding through the basement window.
Henry and the roommate/dealer begin to have a calm conversation with Joe about his guns. Joe hands Henry the gun in his hand. Joe swears he wasn’t going to do anything. Henry asks if he has any more guns. Joe pulls one from his boot leg.
They chat for a bit. Henry asks if he has any more guns. He pulls one from his other boot leg. Henry goes back to chatting. Henry asks again and Joe pulls two more from shoulder harnesses under his jacket.
This continues for a good thirty minutes. They talk for a bit. Henry asks if he has any more guns and another one seems to appear out of nowhere. In total, Joe had the gun he was holding and 7 others on him.
Some were secured others were just in a pocket of his jacket. All the while Joe is swearing he just wanted to talk to us. After all the guns are laid out for everyone to see, Joe looks at Henry and says, “I suppose you want the knives too, huh.” And out come four knives of varied sizes.
After all this, he looks at the drug dealer/roommate and asks to get some weed. Joe stated, “I don’t have any cash on me, but you can keep the weapons as collateral.”
When I was younger I went with my family to Yosemite. My dad remembers going to the campground bathrooms there and seeing a janitor there who just gave him the chills for some reason.
He’s a dentist, so he gets to know a lot of people. He has gotten very good at reading them. He says he has run into a few people in his life where he could just tell that something wasn’t working correctly upstairs, and it freaked him out.
I don’t mean the people had a mental handicap, I mean the people were cold. They were psychopaths. It doesn’t necessarily mean they were serial killers, he could just tell that they couldn’t comprehend empathy.
When he saw the janitor, he immediately picked up on this. I don’t know if he talked to him at all, though. Later that year, he reads in the newspaper that a serial killer was caught in Yosemite.
Sure enough, it was that janitor that he saw. The guy had killed four people earlier that year. I believe the guy’s name is Cary Stayner.
When I was about 12, I had a lot of issues with night terrors and rarely slept a whole night through.
One night, I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I sat down half-asleep, thinking of nothing but emptying my bladder and going back to bed, when I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
There was a man standing by the other door to the bathroom staring at me, not moving. He was wearing a tattered grey jumpsuit and had a crutch, little to no hair.
I don’t remember how I got down into the basement where my parents slept, but suddenly there I was, hysterical.
My dad finally went up and looked in the bathroom and kitchen. He saw nothing, but allowed me to sleep on the couch down there anyway. I didn’t fall back asleep.
About an hour or so later, I heard the sliding door to the bathroom from my sister’s room and limping footsteps.
The next morning, my dad searched around and noticed that the fridge and pantry had been raided. We never caught the guy.
I used to live next to an eye hospital. One day, walking home, I was stopped by an old man who clearly had trouble seeing. He asked me to help him across the road to the hospital.
I agreed, and he grabbed ahold of my hand very tightly. At this point, I noticed his fingers were stained brown from tobacco, covered in scabs, and his fingernails were very long and dirty. I started to think that my good deed for the day would be a bit regrettable.
When we got to the other side of the road, he still had my hand grasped so tightly I couldn’t politely pull away. “Do you want to see my eye?” he said.
One of his eyes was squeezed shut. With his free hand, he pulled the lids apart, and I realized, to my horror, that he had no eyeball, just an empty socket.
I started babbling (still trying to be polite) about how that was very interesting, but I had to go. Then he uttered the immortal words: “Do you want to put your finger in there?” He was pulling really hard on my hand, trying to force my fingers into his empty eye socket.
At this point, I gave up on politeness and struggled to get my hand free, and just ran for it. I could hear him laughing as I ran off.
This happened to a friend of mine. It was a Sunday. She came home to her apartment from running errands around 1 pm. She was in med school at this time, so she pretty much parked herself at the kitchen table and studied for the next 5 to 6 hrs.
She was sitting there when she looks up to see a dude casually stroll out of her bedroom. There are no other entrances, and she’s been sitting by the front door, so he was there the entire time she has been home.
He paused at the doorway to her kitchen, between her and the door. She basically froze. Then, her phone rang and kind of startled both of them. She ran to get the phone, and he ran out the door. She moved and got an enormous dog.
HE WAS IN HER APARTMENT THE WHOLE TIME. This is one of my biggest fears.
I didn’t realize until years later that I was almost snatched. I grew up in a small town. I was out playing in the yard with my two younger siblings like every other summer day.
A guy pulled up alongside the yard in a truck and called me over. He asked my name and if I was having a good summer. He said he could really use my help since he was out looking for his lost puppy.
“I could show you a photo of the puppy if you come closer,” he said. “No, closer. The picture is small. Can you please help me?” I yelled to my brother on the other side of the yard, “Dan, come help us find a puppy!”
I have to assume he thought I yelled “Dad” because he noped out of there without another word. I remember being really worried about that puppy until we had an assembly at our primary school about things strangers might say to lure you into their vehicles.
Back in the 70’s, my grandfather dropped my grandmother, mom, and her two sisters off to do some shopping on his way to work. Since he wasn’t able to pick them up, they hitchhiked home.
My mom at the time was only around 10 or 11, middle sister would’ve been about 7 or 8, and the youngest was about a year old.
They get picked up by a guy in a pickup truck, who has them all sit in the back row with one of them holding the baby. My grandmother was giving directions to their home from the highway, but the guy ignored her and went by their exit, claiming he had to make a stop first.
He didn’t really say much else to them during the drive, but my mom remembers my grandmother being very quiet and very nervous.
Eventually, they come up to a farm when the driver tells them to wait in the car and goes inside the house. While he’s gone, they just sit there terrified.
They’re in the middle of nowhere and know they couldn’t make it out on foot. A few minutes later, the driver comes out with a second guy who looks into the truck and sees my mom’s youngest sister.
He starts flipping out, screaming at the driver that he shouldn’t have brought the baby back and that they aren’t going to do anything with her and some other things I can’t remember. He ends up telling him to get them away from the farm.
The driver gets back into the truck, apologizes, and they get back on the highway and drive again in silence.
My grandmother, normally a very smart woman, had him drive directly to their house (although I suspect her reasoning was she’d already given him the address before anything seemed off). They lived at that house for several years and luckily never saw either of them a second time.
I used to live in a rented house that sat across the street from a fairly bustling city park. At night, when the park was deserted, I would walk out my front door and sit on my porch and look at the trees and the stars.
One night, around 1 am, I opened the front door and started to sit down. That’s when I saw a man standing in the deserted park. He was directly in front of my house. The man was dressed all in black and was wearing a Halloween skull mask.
The mask seemed fairly intricate but was most definitely a store-bought cheapo. The sight of this guy sent a chill down my spine. He didn’t move at all, although I know he saw me.
The entire neighborhood was silent and still, and we just paused there, holding our ground. We watched each other for a long time, and then he sauntered away.
I ended up calling the cops because I figured this guy was casing the neighborhood. Cops came and took my statement. Nothing ever came of it.
A couple of months later, I’m doing some yard work around the side of my house. I’m pulling a huge tangle of weeds out from a thicket underneath my kitchen window. I see something that looks like trash, pick it up: it’s the mask I saw that night.
I was about 10, and I am a male, for reference. My mother, my sister, and I were at JCPenney sometime during the weekend (I remember because the mall was crowded).
We were going down an escalator, and it was packed. I was standing behind my mom and next to my sister, and I felt someone get close behind me, and he began to playfully bump my rear end with his knee.
My first thought was something along the lines of thinking that my father or one of my uncles had come to the mall to surprise us, but when I turned around, I stared into the smiling face of a clean-cut male in his 40s.
Every time I tried to scoot away, he got closer, and I was pressed up against my mom. After we got off the escalator, my mom scolded both my sister and I for trying to go down the escalator because she couldn’t go anywhere, and she thought we were just being impatient.
When I told her what was going on, the creeper was too far to confront. We ended up filing a police report, but the creepiest part, to me at least, was that pedophiles come in all shapes, and sizes, and they can be undetectable.
I was walking home from the beach one day around noon, and a guy driving down the street in a Ford Escape slows down, and in slightly broken English, asks me how much. I tell him to get away from me, and he tells me $200 for an hour.
At this point, I’m walking faster, and his car is keeping pace with me. He crosses two lanes and parks in a driveway in front of me and opens his door, and a passenger door opens as well. Another guy steps out and walks towards me.
I start screaming my head off and cussing them out, trying to draw attention on this busy street while fishing my knife out of my bag. I walked into the street and around the car, call my boyfriend, and tell them it’s the cops.
I give my boyfriend their license plate number and almost run to his house because it was about a block away. They followed me for another minute and then drove past me really fast while calling me names.
I was 16 at the time, and I really wish I had called the cops because as an adult, I am 100% sure I was about to be taken.
Several years ago, I lived in a semi-underground basement apartment. Basically, the house was just enough underground that the windows were just a couple of inches off the ground on the outside.
So, one night, I’m washing dishes in the kitchen, which had a window to my left which was open. I’m almost finished when a voice whispers, “Looking good there with the dishes.” There was someone crouched down by the window on the outside who had been watching me for who knows how long.
Unfortunately for creep boy, I was washing the knives, and as I turned, he evidently got scared by the gigantic one I was brandishing in his general direction, and he ran off.
I hated that apartment.
When I was a child, I was always stricken by this irrational fear that when I went outside at night, I had to walk STRAIGHT into the house without looking back because if I looked back, someone would be following me.
One day after dinner, I went out to the car to get my book bag, and I was continuing my ritual of walking straight inside without looking back, adrenaline pumping, anxiety going full force, and I just stopped and said to myself, “This is stupid.”
I made myself look back. When I looked back, I saw what appeared to be someone crouched down behind my mom’s car and was peeking their head around. They were just staring at me and smiling.
It appeared to be a woman in her mid-30’s, maybe 40, with curly short blonde hair. We made eye contact for a second, and then she ducked back behind the car where I couldn’t see her.
I stood frozen for a second and then ran inside. I told my mom, we went outside to check – no one was there. My mom didn’t exactly not believe me, but she wasn’t very concerned either.
I was on vacation in Hawaii with my family, in an area of the Big Island that was pretty sparsely populated (down near the southern point). We pulled off the main road to go check out what was supposedly a really nice place to check out the sunset.
It was getting sort of late, twilight time, and we finally got down to the spot (some of the roads are pretty rough on that island, most of it is pretty secluded).
We pulled into a spot, and there were two other cars in the parking lot, both older, rusty trucks. We figured they were probably there for the sunset as well, so we got out of the car and walked around to look. I happened to glance back at the trucks, and noticed something really strange.
In the front seats of both cars were two people wearing those weird horse head masks, not saying anything, not moving, just sitting there. I thought, “Okay, that’s really odd,” and I tapped my mom on the shoulder to point it out. She glanced over and saw the same thing. My dad just laughed it off, claiming they were prankster teenagers.
I waited a few more minutes, glancing back at them, before saying that I was getting really weirded out (they still hadn’t moved at all), and that I wanted to leave. My mom agreed, so we started going back to our car.
I looked back at the trucks, and the window had rolled down on the side facing us, and the people in the masks had turned and started staring at us as we walked back to our car. We got back in and backed up, then started leaving. I looked behind us, and the people had leaned out of their windows and were watching us leave, still with the masks on.
The road was dirt and really potholed, so it was slow going. After a few minutes of driving, they appeared behind us. I looked back out the window, and they were all still wearing their masks, just staring at us.
We got back on the main road and drove away from the house we were renting, and they followed us. The nearest police station was about a half hour away, but we drove right to it.
When we pulled in, they kept going, but they all turned to look at us as they went past, still with the masks on. We waited for about a half hour at the station, and eventually went back to the house, after we were sure they weren’t following us.
I spent the rest of the vacation… terrified that they’d somehow follow us. I still don’t know what it was. Maybe some locals having a laugh at tourists by creeping them out, maybe something worse.
When I was younger, my dad was out of town, and my mom let me have a few friends over. We lived right by a pretty busy highway and over three years, we had quite a few people knock on our door for help (car broke down, lost, accident, etc.).
While my mom was home with us, a man knocked saying he wanted to borrow the phone. My mother told him he could sit on the porch and use her cellphone. The man kept asking to come inside and asking if my dad was home.
He eventually started trying to force his way inside. My mom slammed and locked the door, called 911, and put my friends and me into a closet.
It took the police department 20 minutes to reach us. By that time, my mom had called our neighbor, and he came over… and made the guy lie on the ground until the police arrived.
About 15 years ago, my mom and cousin were coming home from visiting my aunt, who lived two hours away. The drive takes you through the desert and up some mountains, but there is a shortcut you can take to avoid the mountains and shave about 10 minutes off your drive time – the only problem is the shortcut takes you literally through the middle of nowhere.
It’s a two-lane road with nothing for 30 miles – no houses, no shops, no lights, not even those roadside emergency phone booths. They’re driving along through the shortcut at about 11 pm when they spot something on the road.
At first, my cousin thinks it’s a rock, so she slows down to go around it. When she gets closer she realizes it’s a lady with long black hair and what looks like a burlap shawl wrapped around her. She’s crouched down, facing away from my cousin.
My mom says that she thought the lady might have been in trouble, so they pull up next to her and ask if she’s OK and if she needs help. My cousin says the lady stood up and looked at them and let out a shriek like a… banshee.
She insists that her eyes were pitch black, and her skin was as white as a sheet, and she was really skinny… I debate this because it was dark out and her mind might have been playing tricks on her, but none the less it was enough to spook her and make her punch the accelerator and get out of there.
The lady briefly ran after them, but they lost sight of her after a short bit. They didn’t stop for anything, even running a stop sign, until they got to the next town, where they stopped at a gas station to get something to drink and to collect their thoughts.
A few weeks later, my cousin was telling her coworker what happened, and she said it might have been a skinwalker that she saw and that she was lucky she got away.
That spooked her even worse, so now she won’t go through the shortcut. Even when someone else is driving, she insists on taking the main highway. My mom maintains that it was probably some crazy lady.
I was driving home from a big, big city near my little town late at night after a day there with this dude on our first date sometime in March of 2012.
My date was asleep, and his seat was reclined really low. We got into town at around 1 am, and I noticed this guy standing on the corner I was about to stop at a red light.
He looked like he was probably on something. He was talking to himself and pacing. I was a little nervous, but whatever. I’m a little too quick to judge people sometimes.
So I stopped and we accidentally made eye contact… At least, I accidentally did. I could tell he was yelling at me cause I kept hearing “b*tch” and some other… Uh… things.
I was stopped at the LONGEST RED LIGHT EVER as the guy I was with was sleeping cozily in the passenger seat (really, really reclined.) After about 10 seconds of the guy cussing me out he hopped over to my car and swings the passenger door open REACHING FOR ME.
I started screaming bloody murder, and the guy I was on the date with woke up suddenly and started smacking the guy (I think it started as reflex). The crazy guy is yelling “F*ck, man! Didn’t see you! F*ck! Oh f*ck, didn’t see you! This b*tch!”
Etc., and my date pushed him out the door as I zoom off, running the red. He closed the door and yelled, “WHO THE F*CK… WHAT THE F*CK WAS…?” I’m hyperventilating, and then I started half laughing, and half crying because my nerves were shot.
We got some ice cream at 1 am. Then I took him home and went home myself. We laughed about it. But I don’t like to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.
My wife had gone shopping for the day, and so I was in the basement doing some woodworking. I heard her car pull in, and so I headed up the stairs to help her with her stuff. She ran into the house, saying someone was after her.
I got pissed. People tend not to mess with me (important to the story) as I’m 6’1 and 260. I used to be a powerlifter and work at a sawmill. In my wife’s words, I’m somewhere between a bear and a mountain man.
We also have a great pyrenees who happened to have been inside with me at the time. For those of you that aren’t familiar with pyrenees, they’re great dogs. They’re a guard breed originally from France.
Ours is 140 pounds of muscular guard dog. They are the sweetest dogs, great with kids, unless you threaten their people. Then they get nasty mean. For example, we have coyotes here. We also have a 16-pound mutt (wife’s dog).
One day two coyotes attacked the little dog in the yard, and the pyrenees killed them both. Back to the story. I’m pissed. So the dude busted up in my house, assuming she was alone since my truck was in the shop. He wasn’t expecting me or the Pyrenees. The big dog charged him (all 140 pounds of big dog), grabbed the intruder by the arm, and dragged him to the ground.
I grabbed the dude by the throat and told my wife to call the cops. I got to spend about 15 minutes threatening to kill this man if he moved. The pyrenees never let go of his arm. Cops showed up, took my statement and hers, and the bad guy went to prison. Seems this fool had followed my wife from the store (it’s a 30-minute drive and she tried to lose him twice) after making some passes at her, but she said she knew if she could get home, she would be safe.
A month ago, I was at a pharmacy filling a prescription. I have central pain following a stroke I had in my early 20s. I can walk, but the brain damage causes severe burning in my entire body. Due to this, I am on morphine and seen by a specialist at a well-known hospital.
I dropped off my prescription and waited. I noticed a guy behind me, standing way too close. He could hear everything we said. I sat down and tested my blood pressure. I noticed him walking around in the aisles by me.
I thought he was waiting too. They called my name 20 mins later. I didn’t see him while leaving the store. I looked in my car and got in, locking my doors immediately due to paranoia about watching scary movies, I guess.
I stopped at the first stop sign, and out from behind the tree jumps the same guy. In one motion, he was out from behind the tree and was grabbing my passenger-side door handle. It was locked. He seemed as shocked as I was and looked like he was grabbing for the back passenger door.
I started screaming and put my hand on my horn, and sped away. Other cars were also honking. I saw him run. I drove until I saw a cop car sitting at Carl’s Jr and ran in. He took my info and drove to the stop sign, and asked me to follow. I couldn’t see him anywhere. The police officer said it happened last week to an elderly lady, so he needed to find him. I was really, really lucky. Always lock your door.
In college, I lived with my mom and aunt. We had a house on a hill in the woods. You had to drive up to get to the garage, and the front yard sloped down to the left to expose all the floors of a pretty turret on the side of the house.
To get to the front door, you had to step onto a wooden walkway that followed along the whole left side of the garage. There was about four feet between the bottom of the walkway and the ground underneath at the door.
I got home late one night and saw my aunt’s light was still on. She was a night owl like me. I pulled in, parked, and walked up to the front door. It was dark, but I could see there was something wrong with the doorknob.
It was hanging out of the door, and the screws were mostly out. I unlocked the deadbolt, locked it again, and went upstairs to ask my aunt what had happened to the knob.
She was really confused and told me she had just been out there smoking, and it was fine. I told her it was broken, and she argued that she had literally been out there only a minute before and hadn’t even seen me pull in because she was still walking up the stairs to her room.
We both go back downstairs, and I show her the door. Her face turned white, and we realized that in the time between her shutting the door and me getting to it, someone had tried to break in by pulling the locks out. We had many more instances after that with someone stalking us but never found out who it was.
I was reminded of this recently, but it happened >10 years ago. I was living in my first apartment, alone. It was a third floor studio with vaulted ceilings in a huge complex that promoted itself as a “community”, with socials planned and picnic/playground areas among the buildings. Staff would drive around on golf carts waving hi. It felt like a safe place.
So one day I called up maintenance because my a/c wasn’t working. A man comes up to look at it. He’s short but kind of wiry looking, maybe late 40s and leathery, like he’s spent most of his life in the sun. He’s in overalls, has a bushy mustache, all smiles.
He’s inside my apartment with a screwdriver looking at the a/c and we’re making chit chat. All seems innocent until he stands upright, says it’s fixed and takes a step toward me.
He’s looking me in the eyes while he flips his screwdriver, suddenly not so friendly anymore. Then he says (I still remember the words exactly) “You know what I think? I think you’re pretty naive to be living in an apartment all by yourself. Here you’ve let a strange man in to your apartment – you even let me close the door. Anything could happen.”
I could feel the smile melting off my face but I tried not to let on I was afraid. Then I kind of laughed and said “Ha! That’s what my boyfriend said when I told him I was calling you guys. He insisted he come over. He’ll be here any second and you guys have already finished! You’ll probably run in to him on the stairwell.”
At that he left abruptly and I locked the deadbolt after him. I’d lied about my boyfriend coming over but immediately called him to make it (almost) the truth. At the time I thought I was overreacting and didn’t mention it to anyone. Looking back ten years later I realize just how sinister what he was saying was.
I lived in a sketchy part of my city and I live alone. From time to time, I invite a few friends and classmates over. ( somehow relevant ).I lived in a fairly large place and money was getting tight so I figured I should get a roommate. Three months ago, Shiela moved in.
A little background on Shiela. This girl is kinky as hell. She would invite various men over a few times a week. Yesterday was when she drew the line when she invited a guy over and he went ahead and stole a guitar my friend left in my place.
I was furious but also very passive-aggressive. I went to my friend’s house and when I came back, another guy is sitting on our couch. I got more angry because Shiela never learns.
I noticed this guy is a little shifty. A got a good laugh because I noticed that the guy was so high, he’s trying not to die. Maybe that’s why Shiela left him alone. So I went to sleep.
I woke up to get ready for school this morning and I saw this guy happily eating cereal on or table. ( I got used to this ) I sat next to him to eat my oatmeal and we ate breakfast in silence.
Shiela came out of her room and ate breakfast too. So we’re just silently eating there for 15 minutes or something. This guy stood up, washed his bowl and carefully placed it in a drawer. “Thank you for the cereal, ladies”, he mumbled and then quietly went out of our apartment.
I said something like, “out of all the guys you invited over, at least that guy is polite”. Shiela just stared at me in confusion, she said ” wasn’t that your friend? “.
Then it dawned on me that I just shared breakfast with a guy who was so high he entered a random house.
My dad was out for a job interview, so me and my sister had the place to ourselves for about 2 hours. I watched TV downstairs and went outside, and when I went back in, I left the door unlocked for my dad since it was getting close to the time he said he’d be home.
I went upstairs and hung out with my sister for a while. I heard the front door open, and rummaging through cabinets as well. I just assumed that it was my dad, since he always likes to check everything is in place before relaxing. I also heard my dad’s door open and close, albeit slowly, a few times.
I was talking with my sister when the phone rang. To my surprise, it was my dad on the other end. He told me that he was going to be getting home late and that we needed to make our own dinners. It felt like my heart fell to my feet as he said. I realized that it wasn’t my dad that had entered the home.
I hurriedly rushed downstairs to see if everything was okay. Several things were gone, and the front door was wide open. I then heard what sounded like breathing, coming from the downstairs bathroom.
I chocked the urge to yell as I saw a hand wrap around the door, and a face peer around my corner. As soon as the guy saw me, he ran like hell out of there. I chased after him, but he was long gone.
On the floor in the bathroom, I found later of all things, a boxcutter knife. I’m not sure what his intentions were with the weapon, but they weren’t good if anything.
I’m a karaoke DJ. I usually get home between 2-3 AM, but tonight I got off around 11 because the bar had a power outage. I live alone in a triplex behind a house. I live in the middle of a city, but the property I’m on is rather large. So there is a big backyard behind my apartment.
As I was coming home tonight, I noticed that my cats weren’t waiting for me in the window. (They can hear my van pulling in the driveway. They are in the window every night. No exception) I thought it was odd.
Then I noticed that my kitchen light was on… I never leave my kitchen light on. At this point, I was a little freaked out. That’s when I thought I saw movement in my kitchen. I called 911 and the dispatcher told me to lock my van doors and remain in the vehicle and stay on the line.
Officers showed up very quickly (less than 5 mins) they parked on the street and walked up to my van. They asked me to stay quiet and give them my house key. One officer went to the back of my apartment, and the other used my key to unlock the door.
When he opened the door, all was quiet. Then he yelled REALLY loud telling someone to come out. I heard the police officer that was in my backyard start yelling, and the other officer ran out to join him. My neighbors had come outside at this point, and I was freaking out.
It seemed like a long time, but they walked a cuffed woman towards me, and it turns out it was a patron that I had 86’ed this last weekend. I don’t know how she found out where I lived.
She was hiding in my bedroom closet with a very large knife and a bundle of rope. (?!?!) I don’t want to think about what would have happened if I had gone to bed with her waiting for me.
I was driving home from work at 2 am. I’m a nurse, and I live in a small city. The roads were totally deserted, and it was a freezing night. I don’t live far from work, maybe a couple of miles. I’m driving down a residential street around the corner from my house, and I see a man laying face down in the street.
Now, remember, I’m a nurse. My first thought was, “Great, gotta help this guy up.” I was coming off a long shift and falls happen all the time. As I slowed down the car, I suddenly realized what an idiot move that was.
I’m a 100 lb woman and I don’t carry any weapons. I thought I should do something to help the guy, so I called 911 as I drove past him and slowed to a stop at the end of the block. While I was stopped at the light I explained to the dispatcher that there was a man on the road who might need assistance.
All of a sudden, I hear a loud BANG! BANG! from the driver’s side window. I screamed and looked over. A man was pounding on my window and jiggling the handle of my locked car. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that there was no man lying in the street.
Still, on the phone with 911, I screamed “I’M SO SCARED!” to the dispatcher and floored it through the red light. I quickly told him what had happened, and even though I was right by my house, he told me to keep driving.
After a few minutes I had calmed down, and he told me to loop back around. I pulled over down the road from my house and stayed in the car. I didn’t see the man anywhere, so I got off the phone with the dispatcher, who told me he was sending a police car to cruise the area.
As I gather up my things, I do a final scan of the area, and I see the man. He is walking with two other men. I hunched way down in my car until they were far down the road, then bolted into my house.
I don’t know if he had ill intent, but it freaks me the hell out that he wasn’t alone. ALWAYS LOCK YOUR CAR DOORS. And carry mace.
While working a late shift at a restaurant at 16, I had a customer who just wouldn’t leave. He was like 50, and just stared at me the entire time he ate his food, which was like two hours for some reason.
When he came up to pay, he was super weird about it. Like I’d say, “Okay here’s your price,” and he’d pause and say, “Do I get a discount?” Or something, and I said, “No, will you be paying cash or card?”
And he said like, “Cash” and I was like “Okay” and then he just stared at me while I waited for him to hand me his cash. After like 2 minutes of this weird interaction, he has his change, the bill, and he can leave.
So I say, “Have a good night” and he says “Can I go now?’ And I say, “Yup!” And he says something like, “Am I pestering you? Why don’t I take you home and pester you there?” So I just thought “NOPE” and walked right back to the backroom where I got my coworker to deal with him.
Apparently, she scolded him and said it was shameful he would say that to a minor, and he said, “Well then can I take you home?”.
When I was around 10-11 a “friend” invited me to a water park. During swimming at a wave pool he found some random kid around our age and decided to tell this kid that the game we were going to play was to hold me down in the water.
I didn’t get that memo so I thought him and this kid were just trying to drown me. This went on for what felt like an hour of me swimming away and hiding. I didn’t hang out with him afterward.
Same trip.. after we were done with the pool I got to the changing rooms and there is a couple of people in there. Old man on the bench asks me if I wanted him to help me change. I just said, “No thanks” and quickly changed and ran out.
A very cheerful guy approached me and my friend in a park in a very non-threatening way. He was holding a frisbee and explained he was putting together an impromptu game of ultimate frisbee and looking for people to join him.
Which was fine, but then he tried to grab me by the throat. It was such a sudden change of mood. My friend (an athletic dude, fortunately) got between us and just stared him down and he ran away. The whole thing was just bizarre