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Friday, October 28, 2011

#34 Pigeon V - The Haunting

*ring ring*
"Mapple! Guess what?"
"I don't know. What."
"I went to my cabinet to get my pills I take in the morning, you know, for my acid reflux, and the cap was open. And then yesterday, I heard the door click, like someone tried to open my door, so I talked to the neighbor and they said it wasn't them."
"What are you telling me, you think someone came in your place?  Maintenance didn't go into your place, if you think that's it."
"No.  There is something creepy going on.  I'm about to take my Halloween decorations down, because it's gettin' creepy up in this, you feelin' me?"
"So you think that you're experiencing paranormal activity in this new unit?"
"No, Mapple, I ain't being paranoid.  I'm normal.  I ain't crazy."
"I meant...paranormal means...ugh.  So you think you have ghosts."
"Yeah, I gotta show you.  Come up."
"No, Pigeon, I have stuff to do.  What do you want me to do?  I can't do anything about this.  This is a really old building..."

And she won't get off the phone with me, so again, to sate her, I go up to her place.  She's showing me her proof, like her decorations have been turned askew or at the angle she didn't leave it at.

"Why they messin' with my stuff?  Also, one day, I was all sleepin' on the couch and I wake up and there's a tall black bald man in a suit standing near the door.  Was this an office before?"  
And by now, I'm just humoring her. She's convinced that spirits are haunting her, so there's really no way to logically explain shit to her, like maybe her asshole kid moved shit around, or maybe she forgot to screw the cap back on her acid reflux meds.
"You know, this was an office building before it was a loft building.  This used to be an old bank back in the 30's.  I haven't heard much from the other tenants about ghosts, but maybe they are around and you're just more spiritual, so you can sense it better than everyone else."
"Yeah, I am more spiritual.  I feel a presence. When I be washing my dishes, I am finding shapes in the water on my counter, like hearts, giraffes and dinosaurs."
"Woah, a dinosaur.  That really is a distinct shape to spot."
"No, it's real.  I know they ain't real, but how are their shapes appearing on my counter?"
"I said distinct, not extinct...I know you know that dinosaurs are extinct...(sigh)...I'm sorry, what do you want me to do again?"
"I got pictures. Three are on my phone, but I can't show you because it's dead, but I'll show you the one I have on my computer."
"Email that to me."
"How do I do that?"
Just so I could get this picture and show you guys, I taught her how to log into Gmail on her computer and send a fucking email, because she only knows how to do it on her phone.

I present to you her proof she has ghosts.
See the heart?  I guess that means the ghost loves her
 Happy Halloween, folks.

2 comments:

Erin said...

OMG I met you at Peace Yoga that one night class was canceled and I was chopping lemons. I found your blog you mentioned and can't stop reading it. This is brilliant. You should seriously get someone to write a pilot about a building manager of a loft. Do you realize there are ENDLESS potential characters and stories in something like this. So much material being created right in front of your eyes. I used to feel that way when I was a waitress at a dysfunctional Oyster House in Philly. The entire kitchen staff was on parole, had weird nicknames, or slogans. One guy just liked to scream BLACK ON BLACK CRIME! in the middle of a dinner rush. Or the shucker who would not being working but in the alley buying socks from the regular crack head. or the cook named Smiley who used to be homeless until the owner gave him a job and he had a high pitch voice cause his ex-girlfriend stabbed him in the throat when he was sleeping. Or the 60 year old waitress who worked there for 30 years and was on so many pain pills she walked around on her shift with her eyes shut. It goes on and on. . . This is amazing stuff and you are so smart to be documenting this.

jo portnoy said...

I love pigeon stories.

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