I Got Poked By A Ghost

This past weekend I went out of state to take a class at a very prestigious establishment. The campus is secured and is well maintained. The buildings are ancient and the architecture absolutely stunning. It was a wonderful experience and I can’t wait to go back for another class weekend.

About an hour after my arrival, I am being shown around the campus by my husband. He’s giving me the history and explaining what the different buildings are now and what they were way back when. Of course by this time, I’m hungry. What else is new – I can always eat! We wander around and eventually head toward the Mess Hall. That’s when he tells me that the building housing the Mess Hall was a former hospital in the Civil War. Hmmm, this gets better and better all the time.

The first words out of my mouth are, so maybe we can see some ghosts in there? Honestly it was an innocent statement. I say things like that all the time. I love ghosts and the supernatural. I have studied things of that nature since I was a very young child. I’ve always been fascinated with the supernatural and have even seen a few ghosts of my own in my time.

My husband and I are enjoying a hearty dinner and having a lively discussion with one of the professors who happened to join us at the table. Mind you, this is also the first time my husband and I have been alone for a few months! The conversation jumps from one topic to the next without skipping a beat. It’s a beautiful thing.

We finish our meal and are casually heading to the orientation meeting, still discussing the campus history and architecture and the sights to be seen while there. Suddenly out of the blue, I see something out of the corner of my eye and before I can duck, I’m hit! I put my hand to my head to see if I can feel what the hell just hit me and as I look at my hand, it appears to be covered in blood! I look at my husband and say “what the hell is this?!” He takes a tissue from my hand and wipes the mess out of my hair as best he can. Yea…it’s not coming out and the blood red stain is NOT coming off my hand! It’s a damn good thing I dyed my hair red a few weeks ago, let me tell you what.

He hands me the tissue with the offending material in it and I take a good long look. No, it’s not bird poop. It’s a single, solitary, very ripe poke berry. We have no clue where it came from, there were no birds in the immediate vicinity at the time and the squirrels were also across the lawn on the other side. He looked at me and said “ok NO MORE talk about ghosts!”.

Yes folks, that’s just my luck. I got beaned by a ghost with a blood red poke berry. I thought it was funny as hell, but my husband was a bit wary. You see, this kind of stuff happens to me all the time and I’m used to it, but he’s not. He’s getting used to it and doesn’t really find it as scary or odd as he used to.

It took two days to wash the berry out of my hair. Each time I dried my hair after my shower, there was a slight trade of red/purple on my towel. At least I scrubbed my hand hard enough to remove the traces there. That would sure have been interesting to try and explain that to my classmates!