(I’m posting this a day early so I can spend tomorrow mourning my last day as a 31 year old or something!)
A word of caution: I scare easily. Especially when I am alone, in an old dark building full of dead people’s possessions from the past.
A few people whom have moseyed on into the antique store have asked me if the place is haunted. I get it you know? Drumheller is supposedly a hotbed for ghostly activity, but since I had to pay the town wizard 15 dollars to take me on the town ghost tour, I’m gonna remain mum on my otherworldly learnings.
The antique store wasn’t on the tour, and maybe I am just daft on any spooky tomfoolery, but literally nothing out of the ordinary has happened to me there that can’t be explained away. Once a cupboard door popped open and knocked a knick-knack onto the floor in front of a slightly unnerved tourist BUT THAT’S IT, plus it’s an old cupboard, okay?
Friday evening comes and it’s the home stretch of my shift. I’m just clearing out the last rush of the day when I notice a woman really checking the place out. We make small talk and BAM! She discloses that she’s a medium and decides to let me know about the ghost that apparently likes to walk up and down the back creepy stairs into the even creepier basement. She asks if I have ever heard loud footsteps or felt anything in the store, so I basically told her that if I was a light bulb, I’d be one of those shitty strands of Christmas ones you buy from the dollar store that only work half the time. Things go over my head easily, I’m not aware of my surroundings, etc. I also screamed “NONONO” a lot because it was almost time for my closing procedures, and I like to cash out in the dark as a fun challenge.
She told me some other things that frankly made me suspicious. How did she know some of this stuff? How did she know about our creepy back stairs? The spirit is supposedly either in western gear, or military judging from what she was telling me and also very attached to the store if not slightly miffed at how much it has changed (wait… what ghost doesn’t love antique cans?! RIDDLE ME THAT!)
I can’t get the image of a see-through Yosemite Sam out of my head now.
So I guess we have a slightly irritated cowboy ghost. I’m not one to anger the gods as it is, so what do I do? Should I perform an elaborate sacrifice? Does he want a little kitschy shrine with western motifs on it? I can leave a shot of Canadian whiskey on the back landing when I’m working I guess. Light some incense, get him a statue, do a pseudo Buddhist thing?
But wait, the medium has a solution, and it will only cost me $40 an hour.
I can get a bottle of Crown Royal to placate the ghost and I for less, my friend.
Anyway, sad to say that since I am not the proprietor of the establishment (and also poor) I do not get to make any decisions on hiring entertaining mediums to help cowboy ghosts cross over into wherever the dead go. I also hope with all my might that she went back to talk to my bosses because I don’t think either of them are too keen on that stuff and I’d LOVE to be a giggly fly on the wall for that conversation.
I did however dig up some information on the building’s history and ownership after this encounter that has proved to be entertaining at least. Most notable were the accounts of how the second owner of the place would give each widow in town a Christmas turkey and that the basement was flooded after a fire because of inebriated firemen! Not very spooky, but I guess I learned something from it all.
And you betcha I closed the place in record time Friday night!