So have you read my Tuesday column yet? (Yeah, I know this is posted Monday, but I didn't want to forget this. Anyway ...)
If you haven't read it, here's the gist: I see dead people, and not outta desire.
I related the second of only two self-confirmed sightings I've experienced, the first being in August 2003 while staying alone in a New Orleans B&B. I saw it over my shoulder in the bathroom one morning -- a dark figure in a long skirt (I'm assuming a woman, but ya never know in New Orleans) looking out the French doors to the balcony. I turned around, saw her, turned back to the mirror in disbelief, still saw her -- then turned back around, saw her again. And this is about the point when I started to panic. I said hello, I think, looked back at the mirror one more time and she'd vanished. Freaky-deaky, huh?
Thinking I was about to be attacked by something in a long skirt, I inspected the room (scary shower, included) three times. The door was bolted and locked, but I went downstairs nonetheless and asked the concierge if the staff had entered my room. "Oh, no," he maintained. "It was probably just a ghost."
Oh, really? Like it's a service or somethin' they offer. "Why, yes, we have continental breakfast, ice machines AND apparitions." Neglected to see that on the brochure.
OK, I've showed you mine, show me yours! Ghost stories, that is, keep 'em clean.
Peace, love and things that go bump in the night ... xoxo
