b3ta.com user Twizla
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for Twizla:
Profile Info:


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Banks

Haunted bank
My line of work takes me into all sorts of establishments, banks included and I get access ALL areas wherever it is I'm working, which can be fascinating in itself.

One day earlier this year I had a couple of hours work to do in a bank (sorry - I'm not saying where but I promise you this is 100% true). I showed up and after the usual security pass issues I told one of the nice ladies exactly where I needed to go, pointing out the particular places on the plans I had, one of them being on the third floor.

At this she gave me a funny look and said she'd have to get me some keys as the bank only used the ground and first floors and that I would have to find a door in an unused office that had what looked like a cupboard door in the corner, behind which I would find a flight of stairs.

I didn't find this to be unusual as you wouldn't believe how many wasted spaces there are above, behind and below all sorts of commercial spaces throughout the country (I've come across what was once a beautiful art-deco ballroom above a shoe shop in the past).

Anyhoo, this was a very old building, (originally Tudor judging by the upper levels outside) and although it'd had some major refurbishment done over the years, the higher you went the more delapidated and the more long and narrow it became.

So I made my way up the rickety old staircase at the front of the building with quaint leaded windows letting the sunshine in, checking the plans I had along the way. I found the winding corridor to the room I had to get to and within two corners I was in complete darkness. "No worries" thinks I, I had the trusty £25 "advanced LED" torch I'd bought from Tesco and continued on my way.

At this point I must add that I'm not of a nervous disposition and I'm not one of these people that is easily freaked and despite having an open mind I don't generally consider paranormal shit.

However, as I walked along this dark, crooked corridor I got a seriously uneasy feeling. The only thing I can equate it to would be walking into a pub full of moody skinheads who all turn round and give you a dirty look (this has happened to me and although I'm white I had a bit of a long haired hippy type look going on at the time) - but it was much more intense than that, the hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms really did stand up.

I then walked past a room and my torch lit up a row of dank concrete shower-stalls (strange in itself being the long-unused third floor of an old building) and judging by my plans the room I needed to go to was the next one along.

There was another stairwell just beyond the door I had to go in (which was all pitch black) and as I went to the back of the room and checked out what I needed to I heard a weird sound coming from the stairwell and decided to leg it FAST, not daring looking back. A job that should've lasted a few minutes took me about two seconds - long enough to take a photo.

Over the years I've worked in some pretty spooky places, including a derelict mental asylum that "Most Haunted" have filmed in. I've also sat in apparently haunted rooms in haunted houses and thought "What a load of bollocks", ...but this was different.

When I got back down to the busy banking hall to hand the keys back in I mentioned to the young lady "Its a bit spooky up there isn't it!" she replied that she'd never dare go up there, at which point the manager overheard me and came over to say that a number of contractors had been up there to do maintenance etc. - done the job in record time and refused to ever go up there again.

She went on to say that one of her customers was a catholic priest and a few months before she'd asked him to go to the upper floors and see what he thought. According to her he reckoned there was "at least one unfriendly presence upstairs that didn't want to be disturbed, don't go up there if you don't have to."

Once again, I'm not easily frightened and I'm a rational, logical bloke that spends half my time time in dank and dingey places - but this place was tangibly unpleasant. There were another two floors above where I went and if I'd been required to go there I wouldn't have gone - I would've said the stairs weren't safe.

Far more frightening than being sold house insurance I assure you.
(Fri 17th Jul 2009, 1:28, More)

» Festivals

Secret Garden Party 2008
Last year was my third year running at this magnificent little festy near Huntingdon. I love this festival so much its the only one I'm really bothered about not missing, its big enough to have plenty to do and small enough for you to get from one stage/tent/activity to another in a few minutes at most, (I've been to Glasto and some of the other huge festivals and spent more time walking through crowds than enjoying the entertainment).

I really can't praise it enough, its non-corporate and the organisers really go out of their way to provide a fun-filled time. I also like the fact that during the day it all seems quite sublime, not a chav in site and aside from some of the mad activites everyone is encouraged to take part in, at face-value it looks pretty straight laced for a festival. When it gets dark however, it becomes the maddest place on earth, just about everyone is on one (or two or three or more - if you know what I mean).

I digress...

I could tell a number of storys of utter mentalness from my times there but last year I caused complete mayhem and it was a bloody miracle nobody was seriously hurt. I'm not proud of what I did but in hindsight it was pretty damn funny.

One of the coolest things about SGP is the landscaping and the big lake smack bang in the middle of it. To one side of the lake there's a pagoda which has a DJ booth on it and a big wooden pier-like platform extending out over the water which acts as the pagoda dance-floor. Now this is all very nice but its a bit of a nightmare to get on and off this platform cos there's just one narrow point of access/exit to the side of the pagoda, unless you fancy a swim that is.

Anyway, its Saturday night and I'd been looking forward to seeing my favourite DJ all weekend. Adam Freeland was due to do a two hour set from the pagoda starting at midnight and despite two days of drinking, smoking, swallowing and snorting (and not sleeping) I hadn't forgotten. I got there a good half an hour early and found just the right spot to spend the next couple of hours dancing like a nutter to Mr Freelands eclectic mix of breaks and electro.

This is where it all went wrong.

As I stood listening to the mediocre dj before Adam it occured to me that the platform was getting a bit packed and that this just wouldn't do, I needed room to strut my funky stuff damn it!!
Now don't ask me why I did this but at the time my befuddled brain thought it would be hilarious to stride over to a group of 4 or 5 young ladies and pronounce with a remarkably straight-face "Oh My God! Everyone needs to get off the dance-floor, its fucking sinking!"
I then wandered away to the back of the platform to skin up and snigger to myself while looking out over the lake.

Next thing I know is there is mad panic breaking out! There are security guys on boats around the lake with loud-hailers telling everyone to get off the dance floor as quickly as possible, girls are screaming, some guy is shouting that he can't swim and there are about 200 people trying to squeeze through the 6 foot wide exit to dry land.

"Oh shit!" I think, then rapidly sober up quite considerably. I immediately remove the quite distinctive hat I'm wearing and put on the jacket I had wrapped around my waist in the hope that everyone was so wasted I wouldn't be pointed out as the protagonist. I got off there sharpish and legged it to my tent to get changed as paranoia about getting lynched was all I could think about.

If you were there and I ruined your night then I'm truly sorry but hey - I missed my favourite DJ! And I was only fucking joking!
I spent the next day shutting my companions up as they took great delight in taking the piss - I was still paranoid about someone over-hearing them and the lynch mob (or security) getting me!

PS. I'm sorry Mr Freeland - I do hope you got paid anyway!
(Fri 5th Jun 2009, 18:08, More)

» Missing body parts

Blood spattered
Last year, after recurring bouts of tonsillitis my GP got me booked in to hospital to have them removed along with my adenoids (a bit daunting even for a bloke in his thirties).
Anyhoo - I go into surgery and all appears well except for the fact I can taste blood for quite some time after waking up. After a few hours and being checked on a couple of times it was decided that a doctor needed to examine me properly as it appeared one of my tonsil wounds had not been properly closed.
By now I was feeling pretty woozey so i was wheelchaired into a small room where the doc had me open my mouth so he could stick one of those big lolly stick things on my tongue and have a good look.
By this time however, I'd swallowed about 2 pints of my own blood and it had begun to curdle, the lolly stick caused an instant gag reaction and the doctor was standing right in front of me as a healthy spray of undigested blood went all over him, much of it in his face.
At this point I was beginning to go into shock from the blood-loss so 6 hours after coming out of surgery they were wheeling me back in there - 3 days in hospital for a fucking tonsillectomy.
(Sun 4th Jun 2006, 2:21, More)

» School Sports Day

I hated PE
For most of my school years I hated PE, I was shorter than most of the kids and not a very fast runner. I also had no interest whatsoever in any kind of ball-games, so while most of my peers would be out playing footy in their spare time, me and my mates would be out exploring the countryside, climbing trees and the like.

Just occasionally tho, if our fat cnut of a PE teacher was in a good mood, he wouldn't force us out into the elements to get covered in shit, he'd let us set up every piece of equipment around the gym and play "pirates". Now this game was simply "tag off ground" but with rope-swings, climbing frames, bridges made from benches and crashmats scattered all around the floor. There would be 3 "pirates" and if one of them tagged you or if you touched the floor, then you were out.

As you can imagine, just about every one of us 30 boys thought this was bloody marvellous fun and for once I personally didnt feel like one of the most inept sportsmen in the class, all the hours I'd spent jumping brooks and climbing trees was paying off, the ahtletic superstar pirates were having trouble catching me. Much to their visible frustration and my growing glee I dodged and climbed like some kind of monkey-boy until I seemed to be cornered at the top of a 20 foot high vertical wooden climbing frame.

"Focksucks" thought I, as the pirate ascended towards me, about to end my moment of glory, but wait.... my temporary monkey-brain kicks into action and I realise that there are 2 of those big thick crashmats at the bottom of the climbing frame and I may just have time to jump over the pirate below me, land on the mat and scamper away again.

A good idea in theory, but in order to avoid kicking the pirate in the head I over compensated my jump and yep, I completely missed the mats...ouch! Within seconds my right ankle and foot had ballooned in size and my left foot looked fine but hurt worse. I was scooped up (screaming in pain at first) by the teacher and driven to hospital. It turned out I was very fortunate in that all I suffered was 2 very badly sprained ankles, it could have been much worse considering I was a little 14 yr old and the height I'd jumped (about 20ft /6.5 metres).

Pirates was banned after that - cos of me :(
so we were back out in the rain gettin covered in shit again.

PE in my final year at school was a different story though, I may post that one later.
(Wed 5th Apr 2006, 13:57, More)

» Irrational Hatred

It winds me right fuckink up.
(Thu 31st Mar 2011, 21:58, More)
[read all their answers]