'The Ghost Story' oooOOOoooh ...spooky...

Ok, so I can't think of anything good to write about, and it has been days since I have made an entry (oh the pressure!) so here is a lame rehashing of something weird that happened to me on August 12th.  Incidentally, it is this story that prompted people to encourage me to, nay, DEMAND that I start a blog, so it must have been a good one.  Either that or people don't want to read my stupid stories on Facebook... ha ha.  If you already know this story, I apologize.  Hopefully I will find something better to write about soon. 

On the afternoon of August 12th, I took the bus to Toronto to meet Jane, Sylvia, Bing Wong, and the Hardy girls in Nathan Phillips Square to see The 24th Street Wailers (Mike and Lindsay's band) play a fifteen minute set in the Toronto Blues Society Talent Search finals.  After baking in the sun for several hours, eating a fantastic burger that was slightly pink in the middle ('if you want it well done you have to ask for it well done'), and watching the Wailers royally kick the asses of the five other talented bands competing that day (they came in first, just like I knew they would... ha ha), I walked back to Union Station to catch the bus home.

I had twenty minutes to kill before my bus left so I went to use the bathroom, which is scary enough in itself, this being Union Station, and me being slightly (read: incredibly) paranoid of germs and other disease-carrying microbes.  I don't use public washrooms unless I absolutely have to, but I absolutely had to, and I always go in the handicapped stall because I am slightly claustrophobic, so I found one and sat down on the toilet... you know... like a normal person.  However, I couldn't pee because there was a woman in the stall next to mine and I can't pee when someone else is there (don't laugh - I can't even pee at home if Matt is in the room) so I am just sitting there, waiting, staring at the back of the bathroom door.  All of the sudden, the little door on the lid of the tampon/pad disposal unit (which was two feet to my right) opened, very slowly... and a few seconds later, it closed... 

I was startled, but I figured it must have a motion sensor on it, or a spring that came un-sprung, or something... anything... there had to be a logical explanation, and since I had a few minutes, I was determined to find it.  I checked the unit out to see how it worked, looking for motion sensors or springs or whatever, but no, it was just a simple disposal unit... just two pieces of plastic... I was kinda freaked out, but while I was puzzling, the lady in the stall next to mine left, so I could safely pee.  I didn't really think any more of it, seeing how I was distracted by the sheer relief brought on by the ability to finally void my bladder (it's the little things in life...).  BUT! While I was peeing, staring again at the back of the stall door, the disposal door opened again, very slowly... At this point, I was starting to get a little freaked out, so I was staring at it, willing it to close again, but it wouldn't.  I kept staring, and staring... nothing... Finally I gave up and finished peeing, and was about to stand up to leave and whatever ('whatever' being flushing the toilet with my foot, and using generous wads of one-ply toilet paper to unlock and open the stall door... germs...) and the minute I looked away... IT CLOSED!!  Again, very slowly!!!  It totally freaked me out, but at that point I wasn't sticking around to find out what was going on...

No matter what the logical explanation, as far as I'm concerned, some dainty lady-ghost was in my handicapped bathroom stall, disposing of her feminine hygiene products while I was on the toilet.  If you still get your period when you die, well that is just one seriously cruel joke, let me tell you...  

And furthermore, that must have been one polite ghost... If my period is still a concern in the afterlife, I will be pretty miffed.  Let's just say that I am sure as hell not going to be worrying about finding the proper disposal unit...