So, as you all must know, since it's been in the store since, wow, JULY (really not kidding), Halloween will soon be upon us. 

Despite the commercialization of what I nearly consider a religious holiday (heh heh), I still love Halloween and especially ghost stories.

To get us all "in the mood" for the eeevilll event, I thought maybe I'd tell some more ghost stories this October. Read if you want and don't if you don't, absolutely. I must confess though, I'll be hard pressed to get my ghost stories to beat the behavior of interesting individuals who oppose decent healthcare. I feel that they are downright ghoulish. But I digress. Sort of.

But first I want to find out from the rest of you, what is your favorite ghost story? What gives you the creepy crawlies at night? Do you believe in ghosts?

Basically, I want to hear your ghost stories, darn it. I want someone to scare the crap out of me, without actually killing me. Don't show up at my door dressed like Dick Cheney. Don't put Tom Delay on Dancing with the S ... oh yeah ... never mind that.

I'll start with a story of my own. It's a small story, nothing much really. But it's a start.

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My car is haunted.

I know. Crazy and "oh my lord she's reaching now."

But it is haunted.

The car has an odd and sad little history. I was living in California and driving this huge monstrosity of a truck. Big. Black. Shiny. I loved that truck. Except that, as a person who was a liberal, who believes in global warming, etc. I realized I was not putting my money where my mouth was, so to speak. And hello and damn! those gas bills! So, I started searching for a new car. I wanted a Prius, what with all those bells and whistles, but couldn't afford a new one, so I was trying to sink my teeth into an old one somewhere.

But, it was California, remember, and these cars can be hard to find there, new or used. So I sent out feelers to my southern family to help me out.

It was a good call. My parents, in good old Gonna Turn Redder on Election Day Tennessee, went on my behalf to the local dealership to look for one there.

And they found it! A beautiful shiny new Prius. With ALL the bells and whistles! And way, way underpriced because as the salesman said, "None uh them thar cars sell out thisaway." Yeah. Well.

There was also another reason the car hadn't been sold.

Apparently, there was another owner before me, one who only drove the car once. The car had been something he'd been waiting for a long time. He'd ordered it with all the extras. But the day it arrived, he found out he had a brain tumor.

And it was buy the car or get the operation. He picked the operation. Clearly, the better choice.

So, the car was there, with all these specific things on it, and in Tennessee, no one wanted it. Because I guess they thought a brain tumor was catching?!? I have no idea.

So, it was ours for a song, really. In the end, after trading in the truck, I ended up paying about $8000 for it. (Well. In payments for four years.) Amazing.  

But about four months after I got the car, I started noticing some odd things about it. For one, sometimes when I got into it, all the glove compartments and the lights would be open and on. Even the little compartment to put your sunglasses in would be popped open. At first, I thought someone was breaking into the car. I mean, that DID happen once. Someone broke into the Prius from the hatchback end, crawled up into the front seat and apparently thought pushing the 'Start' button would do the trick. That thief was so dumb he or she left my iPod sitting in the seat when she or he left in frustration after opening every compartment and flipping every switch. heh heh You need the key, dummy.

But anyway, this wasn't that, if you know what I mean. The car was locked every time. But, I'd get in and find all the equipment on and the compartments open at least twice a week. It was weird.

And occasionally I'd open the door and find random things sitting on the driver's seat. A book I didn't leave there. A bunch of change in the seat. A toy of the Kid's. I put this seat thing off, believing it was me, until that it happened really quickly a few times. I'd go inside and then remember I'd left something I needed. I'd run out to the car for that one more thing and find some little something sitting there that hadn't been there before that.

But, of course, it could be nothing. Right? Right.

I've never checked to see how the guy did. I hope he made it. I hope he's living the life of Riley, driving his new Prius, newer than mine, glad he made it through the surgery.

That's what I hope. I want that guy to be the healthiest dude on the planet.

Maybe the car just misses him. He drove it once before he gave it back to the dealership. They let him drive it around the town one time because they felt bad about the situation. Sometimes, even a car salesman has a heart.

And sometimes I think I have a haunted car. 

A haunted and extraordinarily dirty car