I have a strong belief in two things: mole people and ghosts. Since, there is no way in hell, I’ll be venturing deep below New York City, into the maze of no longer functioning subway tunnels. I choose to explore and investigate the latter. I’ve never actually seen a ghost, but sometimes, I just get a sense there’s someone there. A couple times, it was because I left my window open and my apartment was a bit drafty…. None the less, I know they exist!
When Jorge and I were together we would take a trips to St. Augustine, FL, solely for their fabulous ghost hunting tours. Now that I was living in the city, I was missing the excitement and the thrill of the hunt. I was damn determined to find a freakin’ ghost and make it my very best friend. The problem was, I needed a ghost hunting partner. I couldn’t be roaming around the city, late at night, by myself. I’m far too attractive for that. Evan wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea, but after bribing him with some anal, he was on board.
Unfortunately, after that ONE experience, there wasn’t enough anal in the world to make him do it again. No matter how much I begged.
“Evan, please can we go ghost hunting tonight? Pleeeaaasssseee!”
“Babe, we’ve been ghost hunting. All we do is wonder around aimlessly, while you say, ‘Did you feel that?’ It doesn’t make any sense.” Evan responded, intently playing a game of Halo.
“Don’t question my methods! I’ve watched hours of Paranormal State!”
“I will question your methods, when they almost get me shot.”
“Oh my god, Evan! Are you still on that? It was one time!”
Okay…. Sooo…. maybe the first time we went ghost hunting, it didn’t go entirely as planned. After some research, I felt that we should concentrate our search on areas of the city closest to the river. With ships and trade and all that mumbo gumbo, I felt the oldest parts of the city would be found there. The East River was the closest, so I felt it was best we head east.
I had never been past Avenue B and neither had Evan. This part of the city was completely foreign to us and it was not a part of the city you wanted to necessarily find yourself in, during the wee hours of the morning. Since most supernatural activity happens between 2:30 am and 3:00 am, we headed out just after 2:00 am. The city seemed usually quiet that night. As we approached Avenue C, heading east on 10th street, I got a very, eerie feeling. I, of course, attributed this to a spike in supernatural activity.
“Oh my god, babe! Do you feel that?” I whispered, feeling the air around me.
“Feel what? What the hell are you doing?” Evan said, sipping from a blue, plastic cup of beer. Evan had made it clear earlier in the night, there was no way he could possibly partake in this sober.
“I’m feeling the air for cold spots. Oh my god, do you feel cold? I just got really cold.”
“You’re probably cold because it’s twenty fucking degrees outside. Stop moving your arms around like that! This isn’t the best neighborhood and your drawing attention to yourself.”
Evan I walked on, while I continued to feel the air for cold spots and Evan proceeded to jug his beer. I abruptly stopped when we reached Avenue D. I’m not 100% certain I have medium or physic abilities, but none of my pregnancy tests were 100% certain either and they were always right.
As a child, my teachers would always tell my mother I was “special.” I think they may have been talking about my sixth sense and when we approached Avenue D, that sixth sense was telling me we needed to head south.
“We need to turn here! I’m getting a sense there is a lot of energy in that direction. Do you feel that?” I asked, pressing my palms out in front of me, as I closed my eyes and tried to open a channel for the spirit world to communicate with me. I had seen a number of physics do this on TV and it always worked for them.
“Are you serious? What the hell are doing?”
“I’m trying to communicate with the spirit world.”
“I highly doubt they would want to communicate with you. I’m out of beer. Can we got home already? I’m freezing my balls off.”
“If your Jew cock wants to see any part of the inside of my asshole, you’re going to have to stick it out! And I think you’re wrong. I’m a very witty, intelligent individual and I think a lot of ghosts would really enjoy speaking with me.”
Evan rolled his eyes, mostly likely contemplated leaving me in alphabet city, and reluctantly followed. When we approached the corner, of Avenue D and St. Marks, we came across a playground with a swing set. Never in my life have I been able to pass up the allure of a playground. I sprinted across 8th and jumped onto one of the swings, lying eerily motionless, in the silence of the night.
I yelled back to Evan, motioning to the empty swing beside me, “Come on! Jump on this one! If we swing at the same time, it means we’re married.”
Evan suddenly had an extremely disturbed and fearful look in his eyes. At first, I thought it was because I had referenced marriage, but this look was different. It was a look I had never seen before. He looked as if he just saw a ghost. So, of course, I assumed, he just saw a ghost. It was the only logical explanation. I couldn’t believe that douche got to see a ghost before me! It was just my luck.
Evan calmly walked over to me, grabbed my arm firmly and whispered, “Get off the swing. Don’t look around. I just want you to get off the swing and walk away.”
I couldn’t believe this guy. The first rule of being a ghost hunting partner, is to tell your partner everything. I had explained the 15 rules of ghost hunting, I had constructed earlier in the week, to Evan numerous times, and here he was trying to withhold evidence. He was turning out to be a real crap shoot of a partner, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.
“I know you saw a ghost! Was it scary? Do you think it might want to be my best friend and follow me around? Where is it? Show me! Evan, show me!” I admittedly demanded.
I knew if Evan could see it, surely I would be able to. No one as spiritually dense as him, could possibly have more physic ability than me.
“Sarah, lower your voice. I didn’t see a fucking ghost. Just get off the god damn swing, before you get us both killed.”
Evan looked pretty serious and it was really rare for him to be so dramatic. That was normally my job. Suddenly, something caught the corner of my eye. There was a tall man standing on the corner, eerily lit, by the orange tint of the flickering, street light above him.
In the commotion of the playground, I must have overlooked him. I looked at the man and our eyes met. He had a sinister look on his face and if eyes could kill, I would be dead. I watched the man, almost frozen in fear, as he slowly pulled back his coat and revealed a gun protruding from his pants. This guy did not look like somebody we wanted to mess with. I’m surprised I didn’t crap myself right then.
I looked back at Evan and fearfully whispered, “Did you see that guy, over there? He has a gun. I think we need to get out of here.”
If the look the guy gave me, didn’t kill me, it’s a miracle the look Evan gave me, didn’t finish off the job. I quickly got off the swing and we headed back, west on 8th street. Evan walked behind me, making sure he kept his body between me and the man on the corner. I couldn’t help, but feel turned on by Evan’s heroics. I really felt he earned his anal reward and a permanent spot as my ghost hunting partner.
The walk home was a quiet one. I knew Evan was pissed. Which in-turn, meant my asshole, would probably be throbbing for the next week, but I couldn’t focus on that right now. The whole way, I just kept thinking one thing. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I just had to ask, “Evan, do think that guy might have been a ghost?” Evan paused for a moment, staring at me with a look of sheer loathing, and spitefully said, “I think, if I wasn’t getting anal when we get home, you would be a ghost.”
