A ghost hunter here in Caledonia? Yes, indeedy. Recent news offered a story about a local woman who investigates spooky phenomena. How very cool! I have a couple of marketing suggestions:
- Curious customers may select an initial assessment of a spirit’s “sitz mark” on dusty surfaces. The service is called Ghost Bunsters.
- Completely creeped-out customers can buy the Casper Cleaning option. Sort of a house exorcism party, but without snacks.
Many people, including myself, have had experiences jarring enough to make us “openminded,” and I applaud our local ghost hunter. For purposes of this humor column, I’ve decided that a playful spirit, not a faulty memory, is to blame for my frequently misplaced glasses, car keys, or the cup of coffee I set down…somewhere. And I’m a bit peeved that if a ghost can move stuff at will, why the ongoing reticence in making a deposit or two in my bank account? On the other hand, I’m grateful it doesn’t leave lipstick on the coffee cup.
In other news, did you read about the guy who woke up in a morgue? Just outside Racine County—in South Africa—a man was pronounced dead and then woke up locked in the local corpse cooler!
Gotta say, when it comes to claustrophobia, there’s nothing quite like being stuffed into a pitch-black, metal drawer that’s cold enough to keep potato salad from going bad. It’s bound to give new perspective on our everyday traumas—the cat hair on the mouse pad or the cheap dish detergent that won’t stay sudsy.
What horror to be sealed in a metal drawer within a room filled with people who are too bleepin’ lazy to get up and help…oh wait, I forgot, they’re really dead. And what about that toe tag?! I don’t know about you, but my toes have always worked as a unit and they get cranky if singled out. Plus, I’m sure those tags are on tight, which would drive me bonkers. Second, while lying in a narrow drawer, how could you curl up to pull off the tag? Even if by some miracle you could contort enough to reach it, good luck not getting stuck in the fetal position! Finally, the tags are no doubt numerically coded, and we’d painfully obsess on the odds of it being our lucky number.
Of course, after the horror comes boredom. No book, laptop, cell, or deck of cards. But, good news! The local morgue is now accepting the following donations to thoughtfully tuck in with the supposedly dead: Glow-in-the-dark stickers, flutes and small keyboards, ugly unfinished knitting projects, and cough drops to soothe voices gone hoarse…from screaming.
