I will never see Ghost in my lifetime. The only possible way I would watch that movie is if I enter some after-death mental-torture punishment facility in which I am bound to a pointy chair and continually shown Patrick Swayze movies. Honestly, I don’t think I’m capable of doing anything so evil -so diabolical- as to deserve it.
I’m smart enough not to believe in them.
I’m also smart enough to know I don’t know what the eff I’m talking about half the time.
I have two jobs. One excruciating day job, one fun weekend/night job. The fun takes place in an old theatre. It was originally built as a garage in the 1920s but became a theatre some time in the early 1930s. Living in a city that most North Americans consider ‘new’, the building that houses the theatre is considered by most of us to be ancient. A European would look at it as something that sprouted overnight, but we’re not in Europe and there it is.
Since my little theater is roughly 80 years old, of course there’s gonna be stories…creepy stories. I mean, truthfully, it’s a creepy building. Having had the marrow chilling and sphincter gripping pleasure of prowling around the basement with my coworkers…and dude, there’s like, extra rooms we found down there hidden by secret doors…I can understand why people would want to tell ’em.
But I’m starting to wonder what rumours matches with what.
There’s two entries. One entry goes up to a group of offices. One set of offices used to be an apartment and I’ve had patrons tell me that they used to live there. Another entry takes you up to the projection booth and a small, frankly disgusting, little bathroom that I share with 3 men. Believe me, it’s no picnic in the park when I have to powder my nose.
There’s talk among the staff these days of a suicide that apparently occured in said bathroom many many years ago. The rumour’s source is a woman that I ~deeply~ respect (as she was the mentor to ~my~ mentor) so I’m not about to be pointing fingers, growling “LIAR” any time soon. However, I’m not entirely convinced this wasn’t a prank designed to freak the shit out of a certain young lady we used to have the pleasure of working alongside. ‘Cause I know ~I’ve~ tried but started laughing halfway through.
I do miss her. She was a great little girl who’s now gone on to UBC.
But that’s not the point of my post…the girl or the suicide.
I’ve been scouring the internet lately on any story of a ghost at the Plaza Theatre. I have read, heard, or had discussions about a benign female ‘presence’ in the theatre for years now. Not regularly, but occassionally…and from very different sources. It’s always the same story, too. Nothing special…no one was rushed by shrieking harpies…just that she’s ~there~.
Again…I don’t believe in this stuff. But I challenge any of you to be there alone at midnight with the lights off and not have the slightest paranormal thought. Or even during the day…it’s bloody dark. ‘Cause I have and you can freak yourself out veeerrryyy easily. So, don’t judge me. Dang.
But I can’t find anything about it anywhere. Someone’s got to have said something to someone who has access to the web, doncha think?
Anyway…that’s my story. Oh, and as an interesting side note, in researching my little theatre, I ended up finding out that the building that houses my day job is actually built right on top of the original site of the Prince House. The Prince House has now been moved to Heritage park but is considered itself to be haunted. Interesting, I thought.