small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>bump in the night part two</strong>

Friday, October 22

bump in the night part two

Best quote of the week.
“You should spend less time with your TV friends and start spending more time with your Real friends”.
My friend Sarah, giving me shit over the fact that I stayed home to watch Buffy instead of meeting friends for a night out.

I decided to give my female ghost a name, so I started calling her Mary. I know you all think I’m a fucking nut but what else could I do. As time went by I became more and more convinced that I had a real-deal spirit of the dead thing going on here. I never saw the glowing ball again, but every so often the paralysis would kick in and I knew she was in the house. After a while the fear went away and I started viewing her as a bad roommate. She had a nasty habit of waiting till I was asleep, then she’d start shoving furniture around. Being jerked out of a deep sleep by the sound of dining room chairs falling over had a tendency to ruin a lot of shit. I’d go out and get my smooth-on, bring someone home, and I found myself explaining to the girl about Mary the ghost. It goes without saying that I never slept with there with the same women twice. And now that I think on it, this might explain some of the other weird shit that went on in that apartment.
My friend the Violent Stripper Chick even got involved. Besides doing the pole dance thing and stabbing drunks, she belonged to a real deal Witches Coven. I know, I know. Get the fuck out of here, right? Well, if you’d ever seen her apartment or some of the shit she did, you’d believe me too. Hey, I said it before, the little girl was extreme and ahead of her time, or missed her time. So she always said she could sense the supernatural just by walking around and touching things, and I figured what the hell, come over and feel around my place and see what pops up.
We decided to do this on a Sunday night. She shows up with her cat and a bunch of incense and off we go. Now I’m not a big expert on Ghosts and Witchcraft and all that good shit, so when she had my apartment full of incense smoke and the cat was bouncing off the walls, and she told me to get buck nekked, I figured she knew what she was doing. Plus she got nekked too, which wasn’t altogether a bad thing. So here’s the picture. My apartment’s full of smelly incense. There’s this black cat running underfoot, and there we are buck nekked walking through every room. I’m just glad the shades were drawn. That sight would ‘a sent a bunch of people to hell. She had this great tattoo on the back of her shoulder. It was of a black cat, but where the cat’s eyes were supposed to be, there were two small green jewels set into her skin. So when I was following her, the tattoo’s eye’s seemed to follow me. Freaky. In my bedroom was this huge walk-in closet. The Violent Stripper Chick took two steps into it then just fucking fell out. It was like someone had cut the strings to a puppet. I grabbed her and carried her to the living room, but not before I took notice of the cold breeze coming from the back of the closet. Oh, did I mention it was the middle of the summer when we did this and I had no air conditioning?
After she had come too and calmed down she told me that something ice cold had touched her, and told her to get out. Well, in my head that sounded pretty cut and dried to me. At least now I knew it wasn’t just me. You probably figured I moved out, right? Wrong. Ain’t no way in the world I was gonna move out. I had a great location, the rent was super cheap, and the utilities were fucked up. For all the years I lived there the electric bill never got over five bucks a month. I found out years later the meter was fucked up, and always gave a false reading. So hell no, I wasn’t going nowhere.
I did end up moving though, when I was forced out by the Man. The property got condemned to make room for office high-rises. I was so pissed that when I moved I left some things behind. I figure about two months after I was forced to move I ended up driving by the old place. The demolition had already started and my building was mostly rubble. My old apartment faced east with a big window looking onto Main Street. As I drove past I could see the pile of rubble that used to be my home. The front of the building was a partial shell and through this large gap I saw into my old apartment. What I saw made me stay off that part of Main Street for a long time. Through the gap I saw one of my reading chairs that I’d left behind. The chair stood in the midst of all the rubble looking as clean as it did when I moved out. The overcast sky was breaking up and here and there the sun was shining through. Just as I drove past a ray of sun lit up my old chair. And that’s when Mary saw me. Above the chair was a dust swirl and as I drove past the dust swirl seemed to track me up the street, I knew that it was her.
"and the dead feastering monkey flipped the switch"


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