“I was floating outside the window of a guestroom one gloomy eve, attempting unsuccessfully to capture a man’s attention. Moments later, however, he was quite successful in capturing mine. He emerged from a lengthy soak, grasped the opposite corners of a towel through his legs and proceeded to dry his undercarriage in a sawing motion with great fervor and with a thoroughness that seemed wholly gratuitous. ‘Twas ghastly sight, that strangely I struggled to turn away from, not unlike a carriage accident."
— The ghost of Jonas Reed, Driskill Hotel, Austin TX
“I was hovering over the lobby doing a little chandelier tinkling one evening when I noticed a well-dressed, yet forlorn businessman drinking copious amounts of bourbon in the hotel bar. He soon made the acquaintance of a ladyfriend, and the two of them drew closer as the night progressed. I won’t contend that I was certain of the outcome at that point, but I will say that her jaw line was notably pronounced and her shoulders, more than ample. To abridge a lengthy tale, let’s just say that the gentleman’s night ended more forlorn than it began. With a handful of gonads.”
— The ghost of Henry Briar, Stanley Hotel, Estes Park, CO
“It was late one night when I heard a flurry of lewd expletives emanating from down the hall. An exhausted man stood before his door trying in vain to open it with a keyless card. Fast and slow, upside and down, no matter. He went down to the front desk and returned with a new card. Lord as my witness, that one didn’t work either. A third and final defective card left him, oddly, in a state of great tranquility. He then removed every stitch of clothing from his body, wrapped himself with the tablecloth from a stray room service cart and nestled beneath it. Sadly, my only recourse was to remove the DO NOT DISTURB sign from his door and place it atop his defeated heap.”
— The ghost of Abigail Jeffries, Hawthorne Hotel, Salem, MA
“I was resting quite comfortably upon the divan inside the very chamber where I perished a century earlier, when a weary male traveler checked in, placed his valise down and took to ravenously pleasuring himself, two, perhaps two-and-a-half times, before polishing off a red tube of snack crisps and succumbing to immediate slumber. A ghoulish spectacle that inspired me to regurgitate a bit in my dead mouth.”
— The ghost of Ezra Willis, Buxton Inn, Granville, OH
“Being a child ghost, I’ve never had much trouble frightening people. All I have to do is giggle or roll a ball down the hall and people are pretty much soiling themselves. But this particular night, I wasn’t the one doing the frightening. I remember standing in the room of a male guest when suddenly he awoke in a sleepwalk state. Already super creepy. He then made the terrible mistake of confusing the room’s ice bucket for the toilet. Then, like, two minutes later, confused that same ice bucket for a water pitcher. No child should have to see that.”
— The ghost of Theodore Winters, Colonial Inn, Concord, MA
“I was floating around a woman’s room feeling a tad uninspired and less haunty than usual. I could barely find the motivation to slam a door or flick the lights on and off. After a few moments, she turned on her television set and began watching a film entitled The Wedding Planner. My initial reaction was that I was to be subjected to a dreaded female film. Well, cut to two hours later with the credits rolling and the two of us blubbering like a couple of old fools. The chemistry between J. Lo and that McConaughey fellow was a nothing short of a triumph.”
— The ghost of Milton Hargrove, Crescent Hotel, Eureka Springs, AR
“I was watching a guest sleep one winter evening. I commenced some subtle spooking efforts—sitting on the edge of her bed, bouncing around a bit, that sort of thing. But she wouldn’t rouse. I escalated things a bit by knocking a lamp to the floor. Still nothing. I turned her radio on and off, flapped the blinds. She didn’t budge. I then leaned in with great trepidation and felt her pulse. Dead as a doornail! I mean, seriously? Ewe! Talk about giving someone the willies. Moments later her spirit rose before my eyes, and in a further twist of irony, she and I are actually quite good friends today.”
— The ghost of Laura Wethersby, Pfister Hotel, Milwaukee, WI