Car Key Spookiness
Once upon a time when I were a young Thanateros, I was overjoyed to find that I had scored a job interview at a rather nice-looking place. I went along to the initial interview, handed over the CV and sat back and proceeded to answer all the questions put to me by the board of interviewers.

A few weeks go past, and I get the precious callback that says I've made it to the second stage of the interview process. Result! thinks I, and happily hie me to the testing centre where I'm put in a room and made to do one of those stupid bloody 'role-playing' things - you know the sort, you have to pretend that you're all on a space ship off to colonise another planet, or you're picking survivors to get on the raft while the ship sinks . . . that sort of wankery. I managed to hold my own and apparently 'displayed leadership potential'. Bullshit, I know.

Anyways, more time passes, and I'm informed that I've scored the position! WOOHOO! Much happiness ensues. They've asked me to show up the next morning at 9am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with my game face on. No problems, I think, and go through all the rigmarole - making sure the suit is dry-cleaned and that the shirt matches the tie, etc. All this was done the night before.

Cue the alarm going the next morning. I'd set it nice and early so that I could allow myself plenty of time to get ready and drive into work.OK, so . . . showered? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. Hair in a neat ponytail? Check. Got the wallet, mobile phone, car keys? Che -- oh shit. Where the fuck are my car keys?

Cue the next three quarters of an hour searching every possible location in my house, frantically looking for the keys to my ride. Time is getting along, and I'm nearing my self-imposed deadline for leaving the house to get to work on time. I was becoming frantic with worry. Not only would I be late for my first day at work, but these were expensive keys - they were the integrated sort that not only has the central locker and engine immobiliser as part of the car key itself, but is specifically coded to the individual car - getting one replaced would take about 3 weeks and cost me about $160 - a trifle these days, but enough to cause a very real shiver of poverty-related fear to run through my goolies.

Finally, with all of two minutes to go, I lost my rag. I stood in the middle of my living room, raised my fists to the ceiling, and screamed at the top of my lungs, "WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY FUCKING CAR KEYYYYSSSSSS??!?!"

Just as the last syllable had left my lips, something hit the top of my left shoulder, slid off and hit the floor of the living room.

I stopped, looked and bent down to pick up the object that had fallen on me. And fuck me backwards if it wasn't my keys. I stood there, utterly dumbfounded, wondering where the cunting fuck they had come from. All of a sudden, I remembered the time and dashed out the door, pausing only to look back and say "Whoever or whatever you are, thank you, but don't pull that bullshit on me ever again."

Later in the day, I sat and had a think about it, and simply could not explain it.

A few weeks later, I found out after a chat with my landlord that the house I was living in (a rental) had had a history of tenants complaining about weird things going missing and reappearing days later, strange bumps in the night, etc. With the hair standing up on the back of my neck, I asked if anyone had ever died in the house. The landlord looked at me and confirmed that a young boy had been left in there one day by his completely negligent bastard parents and had died in the house - they had left for the day to go off and do something (I never found out precise details), but had locked all the doors and the windows so that the kid couldn't get out and run away or something. And the kid, all of six years old, had died from heatstroke in the house while his waste-of-DNA parents were gone.

That really messed with my head for a while. Eventually, I sat down and talked to the kid, whether he was there or not, and told him I was sorry for cussing with him, I'm just a simple guy trying to get by in the world, and there was no reason we couldn't coexist in the house. It felt weird talking to something that I wasn't sure was a spirit of someone departed this life, or thin air, or my own insanity.

I still think about that every now and again.
(thanateros Does Not Play Well With Others, Fri 4 Jul 2008, 7:25, 5 replies)

I'm sure he heard you..
You did the right thing to apologise.
(TheRiddler Hmmmmm... I concur., Fri 4 Jul 2008, 11:31, closed)

You can't think of ANY possibility?
You really have NO imagination, do you?

You were wearing a suit.

You held your arms up.

The keys fell onto your shoulder.

What was above your shoulder at that very moment? YOUR ARMS!

Your keys were caught up somewhere in the sleeve or cuff of your suit, you EEJIT!

I'm waiting for you to give me some kind of reason why it couldn't possibly be something so mundane, because the sensibile explanation can only be "a ghost did it", obviously.
(Musuko, Mon 7 Jul 2008, 16:53, closed)

Hey Musuko . . .
1) My suit at the time didn't have the large cuffs required to hide an entire set of keys.

2) Considering that the sleeves of a suit face towards the hand, raising my arms would have necessitated the keys falling all the way down the inside of the sleeve of the jacket. Not likely.

3) You're a cunt.
(thanateros Does Not Play Well With Others, Mon 7 Jul 2008, 22:55, closed)

Coffee + laughing = ruined keyboard
I concur with point three
( TGB checking Off Topic is still shit at, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 10:42, closed)

I would ignore Musuko
This person seems to have a problem with everyone's posts.
I also concur with point 3
(Ghost Batty Rider, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 15:05, closed)