Thursday 10 May 2012

what am I doing here.

"I'm so sorry.... the train was late."
this has become my favourite phrase/getoutofjailfreecard at the moment in university. whether the alarm clock didn't go off or you were just to plane lazy to get out of bed... this seems to have the right amount of simplicity and believability to it that the "teachers" (and i use the term lightly) fall for. i think that half of my class now uses the term "the train was late" or "the train might be late tomorrow," if they think they might want a bit more sleep. I remember waltzing in one ungodly cold morning in November when i was greeted by a technician and also our very own in-house scrooge (Dawn) to be welcomed with the opening line, "you better move faster or your balls might just freeze and drop off," she said very nonchalantly, shuffling off down the long carpeted hallway with windows the size of freight trains, being neither glazed, coated, or most likely, not even containing glass. Dawn, or Dawny as some people refer to her as, always moved with a sort of the "the world will be ending soon" swagger and had the THICKEST Northampton accent you will ever hear ( think Alan Carr).
I loved her tho. you could never not want to see her even if it was just for the impeccably timed bursts of Reality she would utter. "God its freezing," or "Who knows what will happen.... most likely it will end up S***," were some of her favourites.
"You do know we have a ghost," she said, with a flicker in her eyes as if trying to scare the students gave her some sort of sick pleasure, "And she lurks right down the Fashion hallway where the right corner is."

"How do you know," i asked somewhat amused and intrigued.

"Well you know how this building is very confusing to move around???" she waited with eyes squinted looking for a glimmer of premonition, "that's because it use to be a mental hospital."

Just for the Record... this Building has had quite a few very diverse lives according to the group of technicians, who you can see gather in small room over lunch breaks and hear cackle and gurgle away for an hour or so and then disperse like a whisper in the wind. It has been a mental hospital, a prison, an army barrack, secret government testing building, and a morgue not to mention now a university.

"she use to be a patient they say, and she killed her husband and ate his heart," she said with her teeth clenched and her face snarling.

At this point i think i started to snort with laughter, not because of the story, but because she really wanted me to believe her!

"ah well.... i never met a man who didn't deserve having his heart eaten," was her last comment as she stood up and swayed out the room.

Ive never seen this ghost.... i probable never will, but if i do, i think i might just stop and have a chat.