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November 17, 2013

Thursday, I went to the store straight from the train station and worked, then went to stay with Sharly and her girlfriend Lisa.  Turns out that every Thursday they have kind of a gathering.  It’s very cool.  It’s an intellectual, philosophical group of people who gather and create an artistic, kind of retro, kind of avante garde atmosphere.  They listen to jazz, eat falafel, drink lots of wine, and talk art, music, film, literature, poetry, theatre, and existentialism.  The lights are dim and there are lots of candles.  People sit on the sofas, chairs, cushions on the floor.  The house is old, lots of character in the structure, and it’s filled with antiques and books.  It’s decorated in what Sharly describes as a cross between Victorian English and Old French Cottage.  It’s awesome.  Sharly has great taste.  Gary Oldman (II) really likes her house.

The best thing is, I didn’t feel left out.  I tend to be quiet, especially with groups I don’t know, but they included me and asked me questions and got me adding to the conversation and even agreed with the shit I said.  It’s been a long time since I felt so smart.  I say this all the fucking time but it’s so fucking true.  I used to be the guy people went to for problems and people thought I was smart.  I got into drugs, got a problem, had some issues, now people look down on me, they don’t trust me, they think I’m unreliable, and they think I’ve lost all my freakin’ brain cells or something.  Maybe part of that is they know I sustained that brain injury from the Gangsta.  They must think I’m fucking stupid.  I’m still the same guy I used to be, but I’m having a hard time trying to prove it.  Sharly sees it in me, I know it, and she didn’t even know me before the drugs.  She’s always giving me chances.  So that’s why, I didn’t relapse at Sharly’s, though I was tempted.

She asked before if I thought I could handle it.  I confirmed with her that there would be only wine, no liquor, since that would make it easier.  She also got me several bottles of non-alcoholic wine.  The Grateful Dead “Dead Red” was the best.  I really fought against myself.  I didn’t want to disappoint Sharly, and I can’t take care of Gary Oldman (II) properly if I’m drunk.  I had to remind myself that I couldn’t just sneak one drink.  That’s a trap.  You think in your head that you’ll just have one, and then it’s impossible to stop.  That’s what makes it a disease.

So I was good, but Friday I had the shits since it was like drinking several bottles of grape juice.  Also, I didn’t get much sleep Thursday night, and here’s why:

My name is Wall Grimm, and this is the story of “The Haunting at Sharly’s”


We went to bed about midnight.  Everyone left except for me and James.  James is like 40s, black, and gay, and he was too drunk to drive.  Apparently he doesn’t usually get like that but he had just had some mysterious medical procedure and the results of the meds and the prep for the procedure lowered his tolerance.  He wasn’t really messed up, just didn’t want to risk driving.

Sharly and Lisa have two guest bedrooms, each with a queen sized bed.  I already had my shit in one of them so that’s where I went to bed.  The bed was so freakin’ comfortable, as was the room, the temperature.  I felt like I was in some kind of an inn or bed and breakfast.  Then as I was drifting off to sleep, I kept feeling this cool breeze brush against my face and neck.  But I was half asleep so I was ignoring it, until it eventually woke me up enough for me to roll over to see if something was there.  There was an image, a shape, right there beside me, practically on top of me.  It startled me so much I actually shouted and backed up, falling out of bed.  Then I went out into the hall and couldn’t find the hall light.  I was like, “Sharly!  Sharly!  Where’s the light!”

She and Lisa and James all came out.  They turned on the light, and I’m standing in my underwear pointing into the bedroom saying, “there’s, there’s….something…”

Sharly said, “Oh no I forgot about that.  We have a ghost here.  She’s harmless, just curious.”

I felt like such a pussy but there was no way I was going back in that room, at least not that night.  I needed time to adjust to the idea.  I said, “I don’t want to sleep in there.”

James said we could switch rooms.  Then I felt like even more of a pussy when I said I didn’t want to sleep alone.  James said he would sleep with me.  I said I wanted to sleep with Sharly.  She laughed and said no, she’s sleeping with Lisa.  So I said I could sleep with both of them, they have a king sized bed.  Sharly was amused, she could tell I wasn’t even being a pervert, I was scared shitless.  But she said no, so I said I’d sleep with James.

We went to bed and it took me forever to fall asleep.  It’s one of those old houses that makes lots of noise from the heat, and the structure settling.  I’d hear a noise and just look around.  I should have just kept my eyes closed.  Finally I saw something and woke up James.  He sat up looked and it was just a reflection from the moonlight coming in and the heat moving a curtain or something stupid like that.  He said lay down and relax, then he moved up next to me to hold me.  I said, “no I’m not comfortable with that, but thanks,” even though it wasn’t anything sexual, it’s just weird to be like that with another guy.  Not only that, it sucks to be the freakin’ coward who needs to feel safe.

I said I was going to have a cigarette.  I got up, dressed, wrapped myself in a blanket and went outside and smoked three cigarettes after taking 10 valerian capsules that Sharly has.  Not valium, but it’s what they make valium out of.  It’s the root of the valerian plant.  So I took ten of those, smoked three cigarettes, then I was wicked drowsy when I came in so I just laid on the couch still wrapped in the blanket and crashed for the night.  I just needed to get my head around the idea, and Sharly said the ghost was harmless.  It just startled me as I was half asleep.

But I’ve slept in my original room since Friday night and the ghost hasn’t bothered me.  I think it made her sad that she scared me so much.  That’s the sense I get from it.

Anyway, there’s other stuff I should be talking about I guess, like Sweetheart, Valentina, Iona, and Pete, but not now.