My Week 244: The Need To Exorcise

Sometimes it seems like I’m just a weird magnet. And by that, I don’t mean you can stick me on your fridge where I will proceed to talk only to your dog and demand wine; I mean that I seem to have the uncanny knack of attracting all the weird things.

On Thursday, I was sitting on the train, minding my own damn business as one does, when a well-dressed young girl around 20 years old sat down next to me. She reeked of perfume to the point that I was almost gagging. Now, I’m not ALLERGIC to perfume—in fact, I rather like it, but being enveloped in a napalm-ish cloud of it was death to my sinuses. Unfortunately, the train was packed and there was nowhere else to go. Out of the corner of my watering eye, I saw her put down her seat tray and place her cell phone on it. Then she pulled a red velvet pouch out of her purse. I was initially impressed, like, ‘Hmm—what a great idea for making sure your headphones don’t get all tangled up with the other sh*t in your purse’ and I was mentally doing a walkthrough of my belongings at home and wondering if it would be too pretentious to keep earbuds in a Tiffany’s or Pandora pouch because I didn’t have a plain one on hand, and I spend INORDINATE amounts of time unravelling my earbud cord and getting my fingers all caught up in it and whatnot. Then the girl patted her forehead and her chest with the pouch, and I moved away slightly because maybe the heavy perfume was covering up the fact that she was REALLY SWEATY, and I’m never sure whether things like that are airborne and her sweat could somehow get on me, and I have enough trouble being locked in a hurtling tube with 100 other people and all their germs in the first place.

But she put the pouch down on her lap, and pulled out a long string of something, and I was thinking, “Those are the strangest earbuds I’ve ever seen” when I realized it was a string of beads. She gathered them up in her hand, closed her eyes, and started fingering each bead in turn. She was praying. And then I had a terrible, sudden thought that maybe she knew something I didn’t know about the train, and I was like, “OMG are we going to crash??!!  Is her weird bead-worship the only thing standing between me and a fiery derailment?!”

This went on for over almost half an hour, her in silent contemplation of the divine and me in silent worst case scenario mode. I had located the emergency hammer and definitively concluded that if we DID crash, I was jumping over her perfume-y ass to get out of the train, when she opened her eyes and put down the rosary. She started swirling her hands around her head like she was fake-washing her face, and I moved even further away in case she wanted to wash mine too–I was having a particularly good mascara day, so hard pass. When she was done with the air-grooming, she patted herself with the bag again, and I realized that she was, in fact, crossing herself with it. Then she put her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead for the next half-hour until we arrived in Toronto and I didn’t know whether to thank her for saving us all with her “Severus Snape at the Quidditch Match” level of concentration, or tell her to ease off on the Ysatis.

This event was simply the cherry on top of all the weirdness that I’ve been experiencing lately. Last week, I came downstairs in the morning, and there was a lovely, tiny origami frog/butterfly type of thing right smack in the middle of the kitchen counter.

“Aw,” I thought. “I didn’t know that Ken knew how to do origami. How sweet!” So when he came down, I thanked him, and he said, “I didn’t do that—I thought YOU made it.” And after the Mysterious Case of the Mouthguard on the Landing, which was NEVER solved, by the way, you can only imagine how I reacted to this, which was to insist that we search the house for an intruder with fine motor skills and bad teeth.

But wait—it gets worse. The other night, my mom was away so I invited my dad for dinner. I was running a little late so I called Ken and suggested that he go and get some Swiss Chalet take-out. I was close to home, so I said, “You can either take Dad with you or leave him at the house—I won’t be long.” So about 15 minutes later, I pulled into the driveway. From my car, I could see someone in the kitchen—it looked like he was pouring a glass of wine. But by the time I got through the door, he was gone. “Dad! I’m home!” I started yelling, but there was no answer. Maybe he was in the bathroom. I wandered around downstairs, Titus dogging my steps, but there was no sign of him anywhere. So I did what any normal person would do—I went out on the porch and I called Ken:

Me: Um, is my dad with you?
Ken: Yep, he’s right here!
Dad: Hi!!
Me:
Ken: What’s wrong?
Me: There’s someone in the house! I saw a man in the kitchen–it looked like he was pouring a glass of wine and now he’s gone. I’m staying out here until you get back.
Ken: It’s just your imagination. Your mind EXPECTED to see your dad standing at the counter pouring a glass of wine because that’s what he ALWAYS does.
Dad: Hey!
Me: It WASN’T my imagination!
Ken: Go back in and look around. If Titus isn’t worried, I doubt there’s anyone in there.
Titus (from inside): I’m a terrible guard dog! Don’t rely on me!

Anyway, I went inside and got my pepper spray and a glass of wine (like father like daughter), then sat in my office with my back to the wall so I could see anyone sneaking up on me, waiting for them to get home. And now I’m wondering if that girl on the train was really praying, or maybe she was trying to perform an exorcism.

The other weird thing that happened last week isn’t so much unsettling as it just made me go “Huh?” I pulled into the train station parking lot and there was a truck bed camper up on blocks next to the dumpster.

A Clockwork Camper?

It hadn’t been there the day before, and I didn’t pay too much attention until suddenly, the door swung open and a guy stepped out. He stretched and looked up at the sky. And that’s when I realized that he was dressed EXACTLY like the main character from A Clockwork Orange, from his bowler hat to his white outfit to his cane. He started kind of skipping across the parking lot, swinging his cane (I’m guessing in time to the song ‘Singing in the Rain’), then he disappeared. I wonder if he knows origami?

Exactly how he was dressed.

39 thoughts on “My Week 244: The Need To Exorcise”

  1. Hmmm, except for that potpourri covered girl on the train (isn’t that a movie?) I think Titus is just plain screwing with your mind. The origami gum wrapper, you seeing someone pouring a glass of wine? He was the only one in your house, he “says” he’s a bad guard dog but he could be doing what all the pets in the film “The Secret Life of Pets” do and he’s been charging neighborhood pets to rave in your house when you and Ken aren’t there. Drinking your wine and I bet there’s a beagle in your neighborhood that knows origami and a Great Dane that loves wine, I mean other than Titus I mean. Lol

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  3. Titus is doing an excellent job. He knows the ghost in your house is perfectly benevolent and he follows you closely just to reassure you that everything’s fine. Although if you want to get rid of the benevolent ghost I’m pretty sure the girl on the train could get rid of it. Not with the rosary but with that perfume.
    Dumpster Alex, on the other hand, is just disturbing. Unless there’s a community theatre production of A Clockwork Orange and he’s an understudy. Then he’s merely mildly disturbing.

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  5. Sweet Jesus, girl…literally, I guess, huh?! Well, Mr. Jesus is clearly looking out for you as it seems you evaded a couple of encounters with death…or at least very awkward exchanges, like “Hi, sir with the bad teeth, I really don’t have enough wine to accommodate you, me, and my dad. Plus, I need to save some for Titus who sometimes needs it to calm down and sleep. Although clearly, that isn’t an issue ca sois as he didn’t do a thing to alert me that there was in fact, a man with bad teeth in my kitchen drinking my wine…” or something to that effect.
    As for Clockwork Orange, God bless him (or Jesus or whomever you would pray to if you were a woman swimming in perfume who had a string of beads to recite whatever one says to the god to whom one prays to.) I mean, he lives in a trailer next do a dumpster and is still content enough to skip down the ally channeling his inner Frank Sinatra.
    I might have to keep my eye out for a cane myself, if it will inspire a bit of good cheer. Hell, it probably wouldn’t hurt to invest in some holy beads as well at this point.
    Regardless, I will most definitely be indulging in a glass of wine ca soir. I mean, wine is supposed to be holy, right? And maybe, just maybe, I too will become a magnet for good cheer, blessings, and holy shit.
    Here’s to a week of some sense of normalcy. Although, who are we kidding, you don’t really do normal. But all pray for you anyway. 😉

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    • What’s that old curse: “May you have an interesting life”? I guess it’s both a curse AND a blessing! Clockwork Orange dude was wearing a cape today–he must have quite the closet inside his dumpster camper!

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  6. Two weekends ago we were in church, supporting our godson as he made his first communion. The bishop implored us all to pray more often, and suggested we make use of commutes to do so – he does it in the car himself. Then he went off on a road-rage rant and gave a shout out to his driver. It was weird. But apparently the catholic church is really pushing praying during transportation.

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    • So long as they don’t do it while they’re driving–shutting your eyes and taking your hands off the wheel for that long could be dangerous! Talk about “Jesus Take the Wheel”!

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  8. Holy smokes, kid. This is some weird stuff. If you see the woman on the train again try to strike up a conversation just to see where it goes. You might have tapped in to some weird Ouija board stuff. On the bright side it makes for some amazing blogging. Right?????

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  9. You know what they say, if you don’t know who the weirdness magnet is on the train, it might just be you.

    I’m pretty sure people say that.

    At any rate, you have to be grateful that your revenant hasn’t dropped a chandelier from the kitchen ceiling or caressed your partner’s butt, like mine has. He also, I’m assuming, hasn’t thrown summer chairs across your deck, tapped on your screen door at night, or watched TV in the attic at 3 in the morning, like mine has been known to do. Although if he’s drinking your favorite wine that’s a deal-breaker. “Spirits are welcome; but BYOW.”

    The really weird thing is that you met a religious 20-year old at all. That’s downright spooky. 🙂

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  10. It’s refreshing to know I’m not the only weirdo magnet out there. I swear they must have me on one of those maps like they do for celebrities’ homes when you visit Hollywood.

    The woman on the train would have absolutely freaked me out, and I definitely would have she knew something I didn’t know.

    The origami wrapper is definitely a ghost and you should move immediately. 😉

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  11. 100% that woman on the train was putting a hex on you (the perfume was probably a key ingredient in her witch’s brew, like the baboon’s blood in Macbeth), and the origami is clearly an evil amulet, like the Tiki idol the Brady Bunch found in Hawaii, meant to amplify whatever bad juju she cursed you with. Douse that mother***er with holy water, burn it, and bury its ashes in consecrated ground. Then find that guy pouring wine in your kitchen and have him fill your glass!

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  12. Well, it was nice knowing you…….
    I’ve often joked my life has been a lot of things, but it’s never been dull. Those ‘WHO DOES THIS HAPPEN TO?’ moments. Well – you – it happens to you. That gives me comfort of sorts. I hope your wine-supping origami artist ghost is doing their fair share of chores. Only thing worse than a ghost in residence, is one that doesn’t chip in. 😉

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