"There is nothing I hate more than not being able to figure out tech shit on my own. Except geese. And basements. And that thing from 'The Grudge.'"
I have a completely irrational fear of basements. At least I THOUGHT it was an irrational because somehow.... while I am a pretty smart cookie... I never made the connection between my basement fear and an experience I had in a basement causing it. That is until Jessi read my status and said, "Oh.... yeah... you hate basements because of that thing that happened." and I was all "What thing that happened???" And she says... "You know.... that story you told me about the thing that happened when you were a kid and you were playing hide-and-seek." And I was all... "O.....M.....G YOU ARE RIGHT!!!!!!!!! The feeling I get in, or near a basement takes me IMMEDIATELY back to the feeling I had when 'the thing' happened!!"
The thing that happened....
I grew up in a cul de sac in East Hartford, Connecticut. A neighborhood where all the houses were duplexes and they are all pretty much the same, just different colors. It was a great place to be a kid (then... now it's all ghetto'd up from what I hear). There were tons of kids in the neighborhood and it was the kind of life where the kids were kicked out of the house to "play outside" in the morning, and we were out all day until the street lights came on and we knew it was time to go in. There was also something familiar and comforting going to each others houses, because they were all the same, so everyone's house kinda felt like your house.
One day we were playing hide-and-seek at Jennifer house. Her parents were at work for the day and I am pretty sure we weren't supposed to all be in there playing, but we were. I was the seeker. I sat at the top of the basement stairs (it was a finished basement/playroom in the front and unfinished laundry room/storage in the back) and counted and then began to seek. After seeking and upstairs and downstairs unsuccessfully, I decided as a last resort to check the basement even though I knew nobody could be down there because that's where I was counting from and there was no way anyone could be down there. I walked down the stairs and someone was walking towards me. I was pissed because we had a "no going down the laundry chute or going in the basement rule" and I totally thought Jen was cheating. I don't remember what I said, but I yelled at her and let her know I was pissed. She kept walking towards me and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I realized that it was not Jen. It looked at first like a lady with a white dress on... and also a little bit like a football player in a white uniform (don't ask... I have NO idea... but I can picture it like it was yesterday and even then I did a double take in confusion as I couldn't believe what I was seeing.) IT kept coming towards me and I freakin' hightailed it up the stairs and outta there and outside... where everyone was waiting for me because I had taken so long trying to find them all. Jen was out there too and I remember yelling at her about being down there and cheating and using the laundry chute even though I knew that obviously she wasn't... since she was outside when I ran out there.
So... there it is. "The thing that happened."
I now make the connection about WHY I hate basements. But that doesn't mean I will be entering one anytime soon... or ever, whether there is a tornado warning... a chupacabra in my livingroom... or an axe-murderer in the office. Not. Gonna. Happen.
4 comments:
WELL! What was it? A ghost? Are you saying there was a ghost? You must have caught Nana's basement phobia.
I have no idea what it was. Maybe a ghost? What else could it have been?
Did you tell Dad and I this when it happened? 'Cause, boy, I sure don't remember it and it seems MIGHTY memorable!
I don't think I did.
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