Hey weirdos, before we dive into today's twisted tale, let me tell you about a place where the darkness never ends.
Wondery Plus. It's like stepping into a haunted mansion where the floorboards creak with ad free episodes and early access to new episodes lurks around every corner.
So come join us if you dare. Morbid is available one week early and ad-free only on Wondery+.
You can join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or in Apple Podcasts or Spotify.
You're listening to a morbid network podcast.
Listening on Audible helps your imagination soar.
Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities and new ways of thinking.
Listening can lead to positive changes in your mood, your habits, and ultimately your overall well-being.
Audible has an incredible selection of over 1 million audiobooks, podcasts, and Audible Originals all in one easy app. find the genres you love and discover new ones explore bestsellers like my sister's title new releases, plus thousands of included audiobooks, podcasts, and originals that members can listen to all they want with more added all the time.
I have been listening to the Martha's Vineyard Beach and Book Club, which actually Elena recommended to me.
She did not listen to it, but she said, girl, this title sounds so you.
And let me tell you, it did. I've been listening to it while I walk and I am absolutely loving it.
I love all the different narrators. I love Audible.
There's more to imagine when you listen.
Sign up for a free 30-day Audible trial and your first audiobook is free.
Visit audible.com slash morbid. when it comes to hiring great talent indeed is all business needs Their sponsored job feature puts postings at the top of search results, helping employers reach ideal candidates faster. with 45% more applications than non-sponsored jobs.
According to Indeed Data, businesses can build their dream team without delay. no monthly subscriptions or long-term contracts employers only pay for results Every minute, 23 people are hired through Indeed worldwide.
Speed up hiring today with a $75 sponsored job credit. at Indeed.com slash WonderyUS.
Just mention hearing about Indeed on this podcast.
Terms and conditions apply. Hiring? Indeed is all you need.
Hey weirdos, I'm Elena. I'm Ash. And this is A Listener Tales Morbid.
Brr-n-n-n-n-n. Burp. Thank you. Thank you.
And I wish we could start it off more like yippee, it's a listener tale.
And I promise we're going to get into like, we're going to change it up.
But we're actually really fucking sad today.
It's kind of a somber, somber day. It is.
I mean, very much so because we are recording this after finding out that Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the legend... the inspiration the iconic woman herself has passed away i'm not okay It was pretty devastating to hear.
Then, you know, like this isn't even a partisan thing, really.
It's just this is a human thing. And she was an amazing woman.
She was an inspiration. She was a legend.
And she should never be forgotten and her legacy should be shined up and held up high.
Forever and ever. So you know what, RBG?
This Listener Tales goes out to you. This one's for you, Notorious RBG.
And I hope she's going to listen wherever she is and she's going to laugh her ass off.
I hope so, too. Because she seems like she has a good sense of humor.
Oh, hell yeah. And so you know what? This is for you, WabiG.
Did you ever see the picture of her working out and she's working out in a sweatshirt that says diva?
Yes. Fuck yes. Those are my vibes forever and always.
Exactly. So we had to mention that because... it's a big deal.
And, you know, it's a real bummer because I know I looked up to her.
I know I was hoping my children would be able to look up to her i've read them books about her before yeah and it's kind of a bummer that they're not going to grow up in a world with her in it But we'll just make the world have her in it.
We've got to lead by example. So we just have to look at what she left for us and we've got to make the world a good place.
So everybody, don't shake your neighbor's hand or hug them because, you know, pandemic.
But think about it. Give them a little neighborly wave.
Give them that nod. The head nod that says, I see you and I know you see me.
We see each other. other i see that you're a human being yeah and i appreciate you you know what the moral of the story is just be a good fucking human being yeah just be a good person that's all there's this wait you know that's just remind me it has nothing to do with anything cool what else is new in my brain In my bride.
In my bride. There's this like little old man at my apartment complex and I'm in love with him.
Is he the one I almost hit with my car? Yes, that one.
I was pulling out today and he was walking like near the farm.
And I was like, oh my goodness. And he walks along the street every day and we waved at each other and he waved at me so enthusiastically. that I think we're friends now.
That's really precious. I'm a little worried for him though.
Because that's a very busy street. Yeah, same.
And he just straight up walked in front of my car and didn't even look.
Nope. He gives no fucks. So you know what?
If you're listening, sweet old man that lives in Ashes Suburban.
I love you. And just look both ways. Yeah.
That's all. Maybe he's also like borderline indestructible, just like RBG.
There you go. But you know what? We brought it right back around.
Everybody has RBG. Everybody's got an expiration date.
Okay, bye. I was going to say everybody faces destruction someday.
Wow. What a way to say it. You said everybody has an expiration date.
I know that wasn't any better. Yeah, you're right.
So, my first listener tale is called... Speaking of death.
Death. the Manson family oh by the way Elena picked these out and she said that I had to read this one it's true And I think you already know why.
I haven't read any of these so far. So first timer.
The Manson family versus my grandma and a bad time house sitting.
I think you know why I guess so the house sitting thing hello ladies I heard about your podcast from one of my best friends and I've binged at least 100 episodes in the past two months.
My continuing quest is to catch up before Christmas.
I listen to you while I knit and crochet, and let me just say, you guys make for a darn good time.
Oh thanks. Fun fact I used to crochet. Love that.
Wasn't good at it. I have two stories for you that I think you might get a kick out of.
Ash, this first one is for you, as it has to do with your boy, Charlie.
Thank you. My family is long time hardcore Simi Valley.
Did I say that right? Yeah. Simi Valley.
California residents. As in, back when the valley was pretty much empty, we were there.
So you were the valley before it was the valley.
You were the valley. As you well know, Simi Valley was also the home of the Manson family for a while.
They were on the side of the valley, my great grandma, great grandpa, and their five daughters were on the other.
My grandpa was a certified badass. He was a paratrooper in World War II.
Oh my God. Right. He was an extra on Western films.
That is like my grandpa's goal. How do you get cooler than that?
You don't. And he was just an all around, he was just all around tough as nails, but he had nothing on my grandma.
She was the fiercest lady I will ever know.
In fact, before she died and I moved out of Sydney, I learned that the power company had a special notice about her for any employees that had to check the power lines on the property.
It read something like, be advised, woman with a gun.
Like, amazing. she was not fucking around no my grandparents had an amazing piece of property it was five acres up against the hill so neighbors weren't all that close dreams I said that.
They lived in a barn house conversion and had orange groves and horses and a mean, mean mule.
Not goals. I want a mean, mean mule. A mean, mean mule.
There were hiking trails and a service road that led to a dam behind their property. you could cruise around back into the hills from basically anywhere around their property.
It made for great exploring when I was young, but also meant that sometimes strangers would just pop out of a trail and accidentally end up on the property.
Whoops! Yeah, that's terrifying. That's where the goals end.
Simi Valley was slash is not the biggest place, and back then, there were only so many people living there.
It came to pass one wild night that my grandpa was out drinking, probably the only. or at probably the only bar in town, and he just so happened to get into some Fisticuffs.
Fisticuffs with a dude named Charlie. who had been apparently acting like an asshole.
Do you know what? I believe it. Yeah, Charlie was always wildin'.
Both of them were arrested and taken to jail where my grandpa called my grandma and She refused to pick him up because she was a boss and if he was going to get into trouble, he was going to have to pay for it.
Incredible. She's my legend. Incredible.
If memory serves, good old Charlie Manson was bailed out and my great grandpa ended up in jail all night on his lonesome.
The week after the bar brawl, my grandma heard some strange noises out in the orange grove.
She and my grandma... Oh my gosh, I can't read grandma and grandpa.
She and my grandpa... grabbed their shotguns from near their bed and headed out.
As one does. There were people creeping around the orange grove.
People in the orange grove. People in the Orange Grove.
Now, I'm not sure if they fired more than one warning shot, but they most definitely shot at whoever was lurking around scoping out the property.
I'm not saying it was the Manson family, but I'm pretty fucking sure it was.
I'm going to go on record right now and say it was the Manson family.
Squeaky Froome was in your backyard. Also, that would be a great shirt.
People in the Orange Grove. Somebody draw that.
I love it. My second story involves a more supernatural situation.
I was 18. and I was house setting for my uncle's now ex-girlfriend, who I knew mostly in passing.
She had a super sketchy dog. There's no sketchy dogs.
Never. Never. Dogs are never sketchy. My dog's blind and she's not even sketchy.
I think that makes her less sketchy. But as long as I made no sudden movements and fed her treats, the dog and I got along well enough.
See, that's the secret to dogs. food when i had first gone over to the house i'd gotten a weird vibe from it but nothing i couldn't shrug off I was stuck spending the night there anyway.
Creeping myself out wouldn't help me any.
I did what anyone does when they house it and bought a frozen pizza and some ice cream and tried not to make a mess.
Yep. That's literally every time I've ever babysat or house sat.
Yep. Frozen pizza, ice cream, try not to make a mess.
There you go. Boom. That's it. Try not to lose the kids.
I think I watched The Bachelorette. Yep, that's always on the list, too.
You did. Correct. When I got tired, I headed to bed.
Wrong. That's where you went wrong. You don't go to bed in somebody else's house.
You never get tired. You never go to bed.
You only go to bed in your own house. I shut the dog out of the bedroom because I didn't totally trust her not to eat me while I slept.
Okay. Wow. I woke up early the next morning to what felt like someone pressing down on my cheek, smashing my head into the pillow. and the same type of pressure shoving my body into the mattress.
Oh, no big deal. Cool. It felt like someone was laying on top of me with a hand on my cheek, just full body weight laying there, pushing my face into the pillow.
I would have gotten real fucking hyped. Oh, yeah.
Oh, my God. Yeah, to say the least. Yeah, the least.
The absolute least. I would have started wilding.
No, wilding. I would have like diet wild because I'm being pressed down and I'm like thick.
There was absolutely no way it was the dog because I'd shut her out of the room.
Now, I am a pretty practical person for the most part. but I'm also a massive horror junkie and I love spooky documentaries.
Sleep paralysis was a concept I was familiar with, but had never experienced firsthand.
I'm also Christian, so I fully believe there are demons in the world that torment people.
Yeah, my mom is one. I said that. the house i was watching had some seriously bad juju going on it wasn't a happy place But back to me getting smashed into the bed.
I don't know why, but I wasn't scared. I had this thought that if I could just call out for Jesus, I'd be okay.
Okay. Took a few tries, but I eventually managed to coherent.
Jesus. I should. You know. I started to sing that school, that song from Sunday school.
I don't know that one. Jesus loves me, this I know.
And the vibe in the room changed. I swear it brightened everything up.
So the pressure was gone. Things felt a lot better after that.
I'm glad. I've never experienced anything like that since and I'm 30 now.
I don't know why it happened, but I pray that there's nothing lingering on in that house. and that my uncle's ex is living happily now, and also that her dog chilled out.
So those are my stories for you. Thanks for all the laugh and your laughter.
You guys are a joy to listen to. All the best, weirdos.
Judith, you fucking angel. Judith, I love you so much.
Those two stories were phenomenal. I love the Charlie Manson one.
You gave us orange groves and Charlie Manson and shotguns, and you gave us demons and Jesus.
I was here for the entire time. The entire time.
So I appreciate it. And sorry, we're super. why are you always throwing shit like why was that your charger it is it's always my charger your house plugs are a little slutty here's the thing I know that we're super goofy right now and it's because it's been a week and I'm dealing with trying to sleep train my child. that's true and i'm just a little loopy so we're gonna be a little silly And also I have a very old house with very old outlets, and those outlets don't hold any plugs in the wall, so my...
Charger constantly falls out and you guys get to hear it.
They're Lucy Goosey. Lucy motherfucking Goosey.
Why are there ridges on Reese's peanut butter cups?
Probably so they never slip from her hands.
Could you imagine? I'd lose it. Luckily, Reese's Thought about that.
Wonder what else they think about. Probably chocolate and peanut butter.
The town of Agde in France is famous for sun, sand, sea and sex.
But lately, life on the coast has taken a strange turn.
The town's mayor, a respected pillar of the community, has been arrested for corruption.
His wife claims he's been bewitched by a beautiful clairvoyant.
Then there's the mysterious phone calls that local people have been getting.
I am the Archangel Michael. The whole town has been thrown into chaos.
As the mayor is unable to carry out his duties, I would like to address you all.
Legal proceedings have been initiated. Join me, Anna Richardson, and journalist Leo Schick for The Mystic and the Mayor as we investigate a story of power, corruption, Binge all episodes of The Mystic and the Mare exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondery+.
Start your free trial in Apple Podcasts Spotify or the Wondery app.
Which one are you reading now? The next one that I'm going to read.
What are you going to write today? What are you going to write today?
I don't know. Wait, I don't know how y'all start off.
I don't know how to do that. All right, so the one that I'm going to read is There Goes the Neighborhood and Other 80s Fuckery.
Ooh, 80s fuckery. We love it. So he starts it off amazingly.
Hello, mistresses of the macabre. Dominatrices of the deviant.
Did I just fly my freak flag? Orators of the ominous. i was so here for that the entire time i don't need to go anywhere else this is amazing fuck me up My name is John.
Hello, John. I love your name. Feel free.
Feel free to use my name as I wish a person would steal my identity.
With my status, I win that swindle. Oh, okay, Joan.
I have two very life-defining stories, one based in truth. and the other based on supernatural fuckery that might make one sad.
But I'm Teflon John, so it doesn't bother me regardless. i'll start with a certified verifiably true story and if you like i'll submit the other yes The year was 1988.
I was a smart ass 10 year old. Neighborhoods were actually filled with kids playing in the streets and physical activity was encouraged.
In fact, it was common for our parents to order us outside until dinner.
In my small Ohio town, long before my father struck it rich and hightailed it to Cincinnati, We were like everyone else in town, working class, ignorant of our lack of material things.
Subject to the accoutrements of the 80s, Aquanet, horror movies on VHS, and using library card catalogs as our Google.
The 80s were not about neon spandex like every sorority girl at every 80s party ever in history would have you believe.
Obviously, we were all up in each other's business, usually in clusters of ten houses of concentrated gossip.
The 11th house down the road might as well have been another city.
Three houses down lived Joy, a much older girl who I was crushing on hard.
John and Joy sitting in a tree. They were the only ones with a pool so their three-bedroom ranch-styled house was considered the rich house on the street.
I spent countless hours coincidentally popping tricks on my skateboard in the street in front of her house.
With the broad hope she would look out her window and fall in love with the rat-tailed bugle boy wearing prepubescent Hulk Hogan Superman fan shredding the curb in her gaze.
Wow, that painted the best picture. It did.
I know you. I see you and I know you, John.
John Hughes films convinced me this was the way.
In the summer of 88, my best friend Ray called my landline at 9am on a Saturday.
Your what? Interrupting my TV block of wrestling roller derby in a billionth VCR viewing of The Lost World. yes I love that movie I was like John you got me you got me John You're eating worms, Michael.
So what Ray said was, Joy moved. He blurted out.
Oh! And I assumed this was dickish tomfoolery since I had stolen some garbage pail kids cards from him the day before.
Oh, damn. Oh, that's not good. That's not good, question mark?
I don't know. Not good for the 80s. I hung up and he called again and again, not wanting him Honestly.
You should have been around for the great neighborhood reveal of our microwave in 85.
Suck it, Steve Jobs. I took the landline phone off of the receiver.
That was ghosting in the 80s. It certainly was.
That's why it was so much harder to ghost people.
It certainly was. You wanted your phone calls.
You couldn't ghost. Yeah, you couldn't. You just had to take it off the hook.
Loser. Cutting to the chase, we made up later in the day because, boys, it turns out that Joy had indeed moved, and my love life was forever— was over forever.
A good run. This was where my memory gets more slippery than melted butter on a cold tooth.
You write like, I mean, to our souls. The pictures you paint for me, John.
Like they somehow always existed. Suddenly a hillbilly family with like a thousand members lived in the house with the pool.
They kept... they kept to themselves and retained an air of mystery and rumor in the neighborhood Something was just off about them.
In our lower middle class asses, look down upon them.
I loved you, John. I love you so much. Their kids never left the yard, never changed clothes, obviously never bathed and had blatant home haircuts.
Never any shoes, a limited grasp on the English language, even though they were Americans.
The rich house became that house. For younger listeners, classism and status were the theme of the 80s.
So true. Steve and his family lived four doors down and he was a cop.
And during a July 4th cookout, while we were abusing sparklers and ripping our skin off on a Kmart version of a slip inside.
The adults were adulting with Coors Banquet and shooting the shit.
Ray, my 11-year-old best friend with the soul of the neighborhood tabloid geriatric I can't wait to be the neighborhood tabloid geriatric.
I love this. Ray, my 11-year-old best friend with the soul of the neighborhood tabloid geriatric.
That's just a great way to describe someone.
Overheard Steve telling the adults while he was snooping to steal a Bartles and James cooler.
Yes. that the grandmother of this new family had been in prison and was recently released.
Oh no, oh my god, the next line. ray usain bolted his chubby ass to our gang nearly hyperventilating with this juicy tablet Cue several weeks of clubhouse theories and firsthand experiences we lied about.
Incredible. The house with a pool became the house with a ghoul.
We grew up on 80s horror films. where three things were guaranteed, a nude girl for no plot reason, sex meant death, and former prisoners were always.
Psychopaths. Yes. Probably a girl or a butterfly or for me, a Paula Abdul video distracted our focus.
And as we did back then, one August day when the cars from the house with a pool were all gone, We hopped several chain-linked fences, employed our eight-year-old tag along as watch out.
We paid him with bubble tape. oh bubble tape and went for a swim a much better time than the usual lousy sprinkler We didn't choose the thug life.
The thug life chose us. After some Marco Polo and diving for pennies, I was the first to see her. filling the frame of a small bathroom window with eyes that bordered on preternatural, The movie Lady in White had come out that year, and if doppelgangers exist,
This woman was a facsimile of the Katherine Hellman character, terrifying on its own, but more so with this woman whose huge crazy eyes never blinked and never really looked at you but through you.
To this day, this is how I remember her.
My friends vanished like a virgin on prom night, bubble tape and all.
But I stayed for a few moments, locked and foolishly brave.
But the second her silhouette vanished from the window, my wet ass and boombox were just... jumping fences like it was an equestrian event.
Incredible. The next day I received a knock on the door.
My parents were at work and I hadn't had a babysitter for years, a sign of the time.
I opened it and a little girl, one of the American Horror Story Hillbillies cast.
With her bowl cut and noticeable stench stood on the porch as if placed there.
Is her home? Seriously? This is her grasp on English?
I assume she meant my five-year-old sister who is in daycare.
But this girl didn't know my sister and was too old to be hanging out with her.
I was polite and told her that she had the wrong house.
Again, she asked, is her home? This is like, is Tamara home?
Exactly. Except the hillbilly version. Hillbilly.
A little creepy, no? I told her. Then I noticed a woman on the sidewalk and my nipples went hard.
And the ensuing chill sent my arm hair skyward.
It was grandma crazy eyes clad in a flowing nightgown in the middle of the day.
Just standing there, unflinching and unblinking, just staring.
I pulled a bluff and turned around to no one in my empty house and yelled, Dad, is Kelly home?
I paused for effect and turned back around.
She's not home, sorry. I gotta go help my dad clean his guns. on the nose much.
I shut the door and found refuge behind the blinds peeking through.
The lady and her granddaughter remained on the sidewalk staring at my house for an actual eternity.
What the fuck? School started and Ray and I had our conspiracy theories, but the house with the pool soon became a part of the fabric of the neighborhood.
We avoided riding our bikes and skateboarding near it, as the woman always seemed to be just watching from the window.
Joy never watched me, but the Bell Witch wouldn't stop.
Oh my god, oh my god. Yeah. September rolled around and I turned 11.
I found another love of my life when a girl looked at me and didn't vomit.
The old lady was never seen unless you wanted to see her.
Die Hard had finally made it to the video store and life was good.
Foreshadowing much? Then it began. As fall trickled in, so did the mindfuck.
One morning the old lady was on the sidewalk in front of the house, staring.
Another time on another day in the afternoon, staring.
No. Night staring. staring, no matter the weather, always in that nightgown, staring.
My dad had begun commuting to Cincinnati for a business he'd opened and my mom is a trash person.
So the only people who knew about Beelzebub's grandma were Ray, myself, and her.
Ray had been using a lawnmower blade as a ninja throwing star, not a bright one.
And offered his services, but I was more fascinated now than frightened.
Plus, Ray Zames was a dumpster fire. I never...
I never knew when she would show up, but I was no longer surprised when she did.
It became a war of attrition mentally. I became numb to it as it was a different time if only podcasts existed then this is the best email we've ever received right I could not not read this no this is the best one i'm sorry to everybody else this could be the whole episode this is it Fast forward to spring of 1989.
Dad found wealth and almost overnight we moved to a posh home in Cincinnati.
A man of vanity and appearances who gradually cut off my connection to Ray and my former small town until they were essentially forgotten by the 90s.
Life goes on. I become an underachieving yet published author.
Okay, so that makes sense. It does. Because I'm like, oh, okay.
Who's still Bart? bartends, and waits tables at 43 because fuck it, dreams.
I never inherited my father's money, vanity, obsession, thankfully.
I'm the black sheep because I don't have stability or the basic savings of a 15-year-old girl.
A few years ago on Facebook, I received a friend request from Ray.
Ray! He still lives in that small Ohio town while I'm sunning it up in Florida. same house even he never left and never will and he's happy we started talking and reminiscing and i asked whatever happened to the old lady He had a pause before asking if I really didn't know.
Oh shit, what happened to- Grandma Hillbilly.
In 1991, the Ohio Reformatory for Women in Marysville gained a return resident.
In 1990, Crazy Eyes apparently drowned one of her many grandkids in the backyard pool.
She was later declared insane and transferred to another facility, and that's as far as I could find. a few years ago i returned to my old neighborhood everything was so much smaller no children on the street no collective buzz the neighborhood was dead forever The houses were tiny and much closer together than I remembered.
The distance from my old windows to the sidewalk where the old lady and I watched each other.
Couldn't have been more than 20 feet. As I had done 30 years prior, I hopped a fence to the notorious house and the pool was empty and disgusting. obviously long abandoned.
I looked towards the bathroom window where I first saw her.
A bottle of shampoo on the inside ledge was all I saw.
I've tried to find the family online, but nothing.
It's a weird bookmark in my life. My childhood and an era ending without me knowing it.
Death of a child, death of an era. I'll never watch Lady in White again, and lately I find myself peeking through the blinds.
Thanks for reading. Sorry about the length, author habits.
Edit as needed. If you liked this story, boy do I have another.
I don't even know how to finish this, so I'll let Let Ash help.
Stay weird, but not so weird that... This lady comes up to your house and she's fucking staring at your house all the time you're like sorry dad gotta clean my guns and then later you leave your childhood neighborhood and you're like I don't want to leave and everything's so small now when you come back but like you haven't come back yet because then the lady find you find out that she was in prison and then you go back and you hop in the pool and you're like oh my god it's empty and then you look to the bathroom mirror and i bet you thought she was going to be there but she wasn't thankfully and it was just shampoo I wonder who even used that shampoo if that family's still out there because I bet they weren't even using that shampoo.
I got to go now. John! John, we want your other story.
John, send that other story. Holy shit.
That was first of all, like written so well.
I bow. I was in your neighborhood just now.
I bow to you. I was just in your neighborhood.
I bow. to your like just prowess with the english language i've never seen a command such as yours sir and i bow wow that was phenomenal It was everything I needed it to be.
I felt like I was in an 80s movie. I feel so many things.
Wow. I loved it. I just loved it. I'm going to read this one called saw an angel while rolling on E because you know what?
Been there. You know what? I picked that one for you specifically.
I know when you pick things for me. I've only taken ecstasy once just for clarification.
I'm just saying. Uh, hey weirdos, I am so nervous writing this and I don't know why.
My friend, shout out to Gina V, who is also a Patronus, got me hooked on your show.
Yeah, thank you. Both of you. Thanks, Gina V, and thanks you.
I've listened to every single episode, and it has helped me.
Help keep me entertained on my long drives.
I need to move this closer to my face because I'm blind.
That's fine. People will understand because they can't see you.
Perfect. That's very correct. I wish you could use my name, but I'm not sure if any of my coworkers listen to your show.
You see, I'm a therapist who works for a nonprofit, and this story involves me rolling on E, so I don't want to get in any trouble.
That's very valid. I like that my job doesn't matter if I announce nationally that I've rolled on you before.
Anywho, I will keep this short. One night, my friend who is also a therapist and I decided we were going to take some E.
We prepared, got some snacky snacks and some ciggy cigs for the trip.
I haven't smoked cigarettes in forever, but I figured We were already heading towards an unhealthy path, so why not?
So we got back to the house and took them.
I guess I was expecting a weed type of high and that's not what I got.
It's never what you get. By one in the morning, we were in the garage smoking and just talking.
And I swear to fucking god I saw something in white pass by the corner of my eye.
I freaked the fuck out and told my friend, Someone is here.
Did you see that? We are not alone. Girl, if I was with you, you would have been gone in a second.
I would have been like, you need to go home now.
You need to leave. This bitch hands me a hammer and says maybe I should go check it out.
I love how she's just like, here, go check it out.
Never give your friend a hammer on E. Like, all right, I guess I'll get murdered, but at least I have this hammer to defend me.
I slowly creep out of the garage and check, and of course, there was no one there.
Creepy. Or maybe I was just high on E. The letter E will never mean anything to me ever again.
The latter E. Now, I have always believed in ghosts and supernatural things, but never had anything like that ever happen to me.
I am not religious nor spiritual person either.
However, my friend is. When I initially jumped up, she automatically checked the time and saw that it was 1.27.
So once I've calmed down, she decided to look at the meaning of that number.
I do that all the time actually. Yeah, you're a number person.
Yeah, she's into angel numbers and whatnot.
Anyway, it turns out the meaning of 127 in angel numbers is let go.
Why does that matter, you ask? Literally right before I saw the angel, we were talking.
Holy fuck. We're talking about our childhood traumas and how it affected us in our relationships and how deep down we are in pain oh my god i hope that you're okay now right like i said i am not at all a spiritual person but holy fucking balls that was some fucking trip We had a bunch of other realizations and epiphanies that night, but nothing else was confirmed by a fucking angel.
I don't know if you guys believe in that stuff too, but hot damn, I do believe now.
Oh, I believe in angels. Do you? Angels, yeah, for sure.
I don't necessarily not believe. I'm an open human.
So, like, I don't believe in God, but I believe in angels, which doesn't really make sense.
I mean, everybody can believe what they want, you know?
I'm like Ma. I believe in the spirits. Yeah, there you go.
I have like a little angel deck of cards and you pull them and it like tells you like a thing not to.
Yeah. I remember you got that. I love it.
I know, right? It seems silly, especially considering I'm listening more to...
Sorry. It seems silly, especially considering I'm listening more to that than the therapist I've been seeing for two years.
But she was a good sport and was okay with my chemical-assisted therapy.
I love that. That's awesome. Anyways, I know this has gone on for way too long, and I don't know if you'll ever even read this on the air.
We did. But even if you read it not on the air, it's still an honor.
I love you guys. You're so cute. And keep on keeping on.
Thank you for keeping us weirdo and entertained through this shit show.
Love, see money. Oh my god. See money. What a great ecstasy trip.
I love that one. That was a great start.
That was just like a feel. You're like, huh?
I love that. We needed that. Yeah, we did.
All right. My next one I'm going to read is from Alexis.
Who said that we can use their name? I was literally looking at the list that you picked and I was like, I'm going to read that one next.
No way. This one is entitled, Subject Sounds Like a Fall Out Boy Song, which I was like, yep, yep.
You know, one of my screen names in middle school was Fallout Girl 1996.
Sure was. I'm sure it was all right a listener's tale on how my apartment ghost and myself came to terms on the electric bill Oh, you can use my name and can edit.
This is a lengthy one. Sorry if there are any typos or grammatical errors.
That's totally fine. I work nights on a pediatric floor and it's 2.30 a.m.
Aww. Hero. Hero. Hello. Howdy weirdos. My name is Alexis.
First off, I love you and I've been listening to you since the beginning.
I hope you're taking care of yourselves.
That's a kissy face of healing and she put a kissy face oh my god i love i love your healing kissy face I also want to sing I'm a little bit Alexis to you.
There you go. It all started when I moved into my first apartment.
Insert reminiscent music here. I was a nursing student at the time, which means I wasn't regular poor.
I was advanced poor. I met with the landlord.
I almost said landlady, but it was a landlord.
Well, let's be inclusive. You know, I'm sorry.
I'm trying. I met with the landlord to discuss rent and how it all worked.
The apartment was shitty and built in the 50s.
Nothing was updated, but I could barely afford it.
As I agreed to the place, the landlord gently let it slip out that the previous tenant had passed away in the unit.
And be like, well, everything we just talked about is null and void.
Bye, sir. He said it quietly like he hoped I didn't hear.
I didn't. So she died in there. there bye so i and then she died in there okay so here's your key Let's see.
So I didn't say anything because I wanted to come off as the cool tenant. who wasn't a problem and that he would let it slide if I was late every now and then on rent.
So my beautiful doggo, I'll attach a photo.
She did. I was going to say. It's amazing.
I can attest. Yes. And myself moved into this piece of shit apartment, but it was ours and I loved it.
Aw. It was a two-bedroom townhouse type.
There were two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs and the living room, kitchen, and dining room downstairs.
The dining room was in the front as you came in and my pupper would not go near it.
Never good. No, always trust the puppers.
I had to carry him up every night because he was afraid to go through it to get to the stairs.
I thought, how weird. But I ignored it for the most part because we couldn't afford anything else unless he got a job.
And no one would hire a 10-pound doggo named Bone Protector Oliver Cromwell of Tennessee.
I would. I would hire him. I'll hire him to do anything.
I'll hire him to travel the world with me is what I will do.
Bone protector Oliver Cromwell of Tennessee.
Hired. Continuing on, I called my landlord to casually mention the dead dude.
Well, as casually as you can. He said that the previous tenant died in the front room and his family found him the next morning.
They thought he'd fell on his way to bed that night, sad face.
Aw, R.I.P. Grandpa. After about a week, I started to get mail for several names of people that I had assumed were previous tenants that never changed their addresses.
One name that stuck out to me was Gary. I always set it to the side.
When I would come home, it would be on the floor and some doors would be locked and others would be opened, including the door to the balcony.
It was unusable. My dog couldn't even go out on it.
I tried to ignore it because thinking that I had a ghost really freaked me the fuck out.
But after the first month and seeing how ridiculously expensive my electric bill was, something had to change.
I tried locking the door, but that didn't work.
Then one day I decided that I was going to open that mail.
I know, I'm a criminal. Most of it was hospital bills for cancer treatments.
One was a letter from a funeral home. That was when I realized that Gary was my ghost.
He was battling cancer and he passed away by himself at the bottom of the stairs.
I cried because I'm an emotional asshat.
Me too. I too am an emotional asshat. I sat in the floor at the stairs and just talked out loud to Gary.
Told him I was sorry and that I wished he would communicate with me so I could figure out why he wanted to run up my electric.
As days went on, I casually would talk out loud and joke with Gary as if he was next to me. even though he never said anything, never really showed himself other than that passing shadow you see out of the corner of your eye. i noticed that my door wasn't being opened as often and i thanked him for that oh i then decided to be super weird I started reading Gary's mail out loud for him daily.
That is 100% something I would do. I love this.
I would totally do that. I love this. I would leave positive notes around for him while I was in class or at work.
You're so precious. Like encouraging ones, like the ones in offices, like the cat holding onto a branch and it says, hang in there.
Yeah, I was weird, but Gary liked it. I started leaving the electric bill out in the open so he could see the damage he had done.
I know. I was guilt tripping my ghost. Eventually, my dog wasn't afraid in the front room.
He even started sleeping in there. After about three months, Gary no longer opened the balcony door.
Oh my He still locked doors and would occasionally open the bathroom door while I would shower, that horny bastard.
I'd be like, Gary, we need to talk about that.
Gary, getting a little spicy. Too spicy.
I lived there for two years and every day I talked to Gary and read him his mail. i moved because a dude a couple of doors down from me had gotten shot by police in a standoff i didn't have time for another ghost anywho that's my story I hope you've enjoyed it.
Keep it weird, my dudes. Oh my god, Alexis, you incredible, incredible human.
Alexis, you have joined the ranks of this wonderfully told Listener Tales episode.
That was. You guys are killing it. Wonderful.
I picked the next one that you have gathered for us.
And I pick Roller Derby and Whitey Tidy's Make for Great Listener I knew you would.
Did you pick that for me? I did. As soon as I saw Tidy Whities, I was like, that's an ash.
That's ash. Hey, weirdos, let me just start by saying this may be kind of long, so edit as you need to, and also please don't use my name.
Got it. Cool. I come from a tiny ass town with small ass minded people.
Same. And since I'm already know the story, I'd hate to be the lead in the Sunday paper, but seriously.
No, for real. So I've been a fan of true crime forever.
My mom and grandma used to watch forensic files constantly.
We all loved the narrator's voice. Fun fact, my mom used to watch that as we were falling asleep in the same room every night and it's triggering.
That's triggering for me, actually. Yeah, I was like five.
I love forensic files now. I made everyone uncomfortable.
I'm sorry. God damn it. And also, I grew up watching CSI.
Me too. My mom had a crush on the red-haired guy.
I blame my mom for constantly thinking trash bags on the side of the road held body parts and being afraid. to ever go on walks alone, but really she probably did me a favor.
So when I found you two girls in the Morbid podcast, I was super duper happy.
And now I painstakingly wait for new episodes every week.
Anyways, finally to the story. So I used to work at a grocery store when I graduated high school and was trying to put myself through college, which I failed at miserably.
Me too. I used to work nights and pretty much every weekend and I was the new manager.
I pretty much was just the new little bitch.
I became friends with my coworkers and when there was finally someone below me in ranks, I actually got a weekend off and me and my friends decided to go to a roller derby game.
That sounds like so much fun. It really truly does.
It does. When we got there, I looked over and saw this guy who came into the store like every day.
He was probably in his forties, question mark.
And while he didn't see us, I just made a mental note to tell him I saw him out the next time I saw him in the store.
I should probably also add that I used to be a whole lot friendlier than I am now.
I'm just kind of a bitch because people suck.
I mean, same. Same, girl. Same. I'm still in like the nice phase where I'm like, oh, hi, old people.
Lo and behold, next time I saw him, I was friendly and I said, oh, hey.
We saw you at Roller Derby Saturday. He proceeded to tell me he hadn't seen us and that he would have, of course, said hello if he had.
Little did I fucking know this would start the shitstorm that was my life.
I kind of had a feeling about that. Yeah, it's not gonna go well.
So, a week or two goes by while I've kept seeing this guy.
We haven't said much more than hey here and there until one day he came in and said, where have you been?
I've been going to roller derby games every weekend and I haven't seen you.
Oh, no. No, that's no good. No, of course.
I'm like, okay, weird. He just must know someone who skates and goes anyway.
No way would he ever just go to see if I was there.
So I told him I was working the last few weekends and it was rare for me to ever have multiple weekends off in a row.
Yeah. Just so you know, I am never off of work.
I am not available. I am working all the time.
Time goes by and this dude, he keeps showing up everywhere.
I would be stocking shelves and turn around and he'd just be standing there staring, not saying anything.
I'd ask if I could help him and he'd say things like, oh, I'm just looking. like at the grocery store like you're just looking you're not just browsing he started coming in multiple times a day making sure he was always uh Was always there at least once when I worked.
It kept getting weirder. He brought me flowers from his actual girlfriend's floral shop.
Yes. So weird. So weird. He would tell me he loved my car.
He once told me that he thought where I lived was really cool. that would be it for me i'd be like i'm gonna stab you in the eyeballs right now yeah no He knew my middle name, which was on Facebook.
No. And one time even wanted me to load his groceries into his truck and would not... let up until I did.
No, never. I'd be like, where's the other manager?
I'd be like, you're gonna murder me, sir.
I don't want to be murdered. No, you don't need help.
You're a grown man. When it was just me and him in the parking lot, he said something like, isn't this nice?
It'd be so easy to just scoop you up. Bye.
Ugh. Bye. So I'd be like, no, I'll make it really fucking difficult for you.
And if you value your fucking nutsack, it won't...
Yeah, it would be so easy for me to castrate you with my bare hands.
So yeah, what about those groceries? Did you buy garlic?
So needless to say, after that, I was done.
I would hide when he came in and until he was gone.
You'd think after all the true crime I watched, I would have been smarter, but nope.
And then one night after I closed up and was home, I was on, oh no.
I was unlocking the front door and looked over to the green bins down the road.
Yes, I lived on a gravel road with corn and bean fields all around and no neighbors for like a mile.
Of course. And there was his truck. nope 9-1-1 immediately yep so nearly shitting myself putting the key in the lock i finally got in and once i was in i refused to shower because we all know the naked bitch dies first so true Naked bitches are always dead.
So, I eventually told my parents about it and my dad being the good old country man that he is said, If he's out there again, you let me know.
Yeah, Dad. So a week or so goes by and there he is again, sitting there with no lights on when I get home.
It's like, what the fuck are you even doing?
Get a fucking hobby. It's so disgusting.
I want to punch this guy straight in the fucking Adam's apple.
First of all, you're horrible. Second of all, you have a girlfriend, which is astounding.
And third of all, like, again, get a hobby.
Somebody... Just fucking... Get a hobby that's not me.
Yeah. Throat punch this guy. Ugh. I went in and woke up my dad and he grabbed his shotgun, which was his dad's, and I'm pretty sure he's only shot once.
And that was a skunk and he hit the sack of it.
And I was known as skunk girl for the rest of the school year.
And he flipped on the porch light after I'd come and told him, so bless this man because he's out there in his whitey tighties, cowboy boots, holding a shotgun.
Pointing it at these fucking grain bins while Creeperman turned his car and sped away as my dad shot in the general direction.
Amazing. Needless to say, I didn't have to worry about him anymore.
He stopped coming in when I was working and I didn't see his truck anymore.
It was kind of like he just disappeared.
I'm not really sure if he was more scared of the shotgun or my dad and his tighty-whities.
I would say it's a tie. Probably. But after that, I never went to another roller derby show or was overly friendly to an old man because...
Because I know if I would have been, I know if I would have been, they would have been picking up trash bags with my body parts on the side of the road because nobody Nobody gets lucky twice.
That's right. Keep it weird, my dudes, but not so weird.
You're overly nice to a customer and you end up with a stalker and your dad goes on the porch and his whitey tighties.
Amazing. Wow. That was great. I was so terrified of that one.
I was like, no, I don't love this. because it's like, fuck off, I was being nice to you.
I did not like you. we'll end there because that's a terrifying story to leave you all with nightmares about.
But a great picture of that girl's Dad in his whitey tighties.
In his whitey tighties with a shotgun and cowboy boots.
I feel like I always say tidy whiteys. I say tighty-whities too.
Do you? Is it like a thing? I don't know.
Is it a regional thing? Somebody tell me.
Do you say whitey-tighties or tighty-whiteys?
Tell us. I like both. I like both. And you know what?
These listener tales were exactly what we needed today.
They were. They were phenomenal. And the reason we're stopping here is because a couple of those were kind of long.
So, you know. Yeah, long in the best way.
Normally we have like more, but I feel like quality over quantity. yes I mean I love all of your stories but John you took the cake today John I will say, you pulled ahead in a photo finish.
You took the actual cake. Because that was just so good.
But you all killed it. Thank you so much for sending these in.
We have a ton more and keep sending them because we want to do this forever.
So ever and ever and ever for eternity. So continue to send them in.
Make sure you put the subject line, listener tail, and then some fun subject because it always grabs my attention when it's a fun subject.
Same. You can send it to morbidpodcast at gmail.com.
And you should definitely, in the meantime, follow us on Instagram at morbidpodcast.
Hit us up on Twitter. Amorbid Podcast. Send us a Gmail with a listener tail and say listener tail in the subject line.
Again, morbidpodcast.gmail.com. And also buy our merch at shop.morbidpodcast.com.
Yes, do it. We hope you keep listening.
And we hope you keep it weird. But that's where they're in the Orange Grove and then Charlie Manson is like, hey, what's up?
I'm literally right here right now. and I'm going to shoot you because I got mad at your grandpa.
Not so weird that you take Ian. You're like, oh, my God, going to be such a good trip.
And then you see an angel. But like, it seems like you kind of needed to see an angel.
So I'm pretty happy for you about that. Not so weird that everything sounds like a fallout boy song and like your dog can't go in the front room But like keep it so weird that you leave gary notes because that's pretty sweet of you and like I really enjoyed that Definitely not so weird that you're house sitting and like somebody, you know, like sits on you and definitely not so weird that some lady's looking at you from the bathroom because you're just trying to break in and like live in the pool and just like live your best freaking life and that's so weird that you say hi to an old man and he's like i love you be my roller derby queen Oh my god.
If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music.
Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.
Shopify's point of sale system helps you sell at every stage of your business.
Need a fast and secure way to take payments in person?
We've got you covered. How about card readers you can rely on anywhere you sell?
Thanks. Have a good one. Yep. Want one place to manage all your online and in-person sales?
That's kind of our thing. Wherever you sell, businesses that grow, grow with Shopify.
Sign up for your $1 a month trial at Shopify.com slash listen.
Shopify.com slash listen.
