Once upon a check-in, I asked for my traditional room—which is always dead, and not in any kind of a supernatural way—but the desk lady decided to upgrade me to a queen. She must have noticed my high heels. This turned out to be my ghost investigating big break, or big mistake depending on your point of BOO!

I would have to go it alone for this one, because due to my age and incongruous maturity level, it’s becoming harder to find company. Shock poll: everyone who knows me agrees with this poll. Actually, I had other business…I was squatching. Fine, I had to train a class the next day, aka, I wasn’t going to a training to sleep, I had to stand up in front of people and present stuff. This proved difficult after the Amityville-F-king-Horror I experienced the night before. WTF? This is not even a particularly haunted hotel. Try Googling Hotel St. Michael in Prescott. I dare you. There’s next to nothing on this place, it’s a veritable taBoo rasa. Heck, I just came from the Mizpah, which is tier-one haunted, this place would be lucky to make pier-one imports. This was going to be a tip toe through the banshees, or so I thought.

Tell them about the Twinkie, Ray.

There was no Twinkie! Stop that. But I have even stayed here before and slept like a…

[Alex Bone joke omitted by the editor.]

In fact, I always sleep well in haunted places, see any of my other ghost misadventures…ever. Heck, I didn’t even bring my Viewmaster for this one. I usually have Bambi in the cue if anything weird happens. It doesn’t record anything evidence-wise, but it always makes me feel safe.

This should give you some idea of how prepared I was to encounter a real entity. What makes me crazy is that I had plans for after this training. I wanted to hit: The Raven, Granite Mtn Brewery, Prescott Brewing Co., Murphy’s, The Palace, The Gurley Street Grill, The Drunken Las, Celtic Crossing, Matt’s Saloon…

Kidding! I hate Matt’s Saloon. Point being, I had shit to do, but now thanks to some bored spook I’m exhausted. According to the front desk folks, The Ghost Hunters already declared 319 haunted, well, I spent two nights alone in room 318 and ditto. But I couldn’t find any reference to this online, but here’s my two cents…and two nights. Oh, and I will never spend another night in this hotel again! Mainly, because their liberal use of the words “room damage”.

The staff claims what action this hotel does get is generally limited to the third floor, but I got no action on the third floor, despite my kick ass stilettos and fishnets. On that note:

Night One:

When I arrived back at my room around 9PM on Thursday 6/26, I started with my usual 3^rd floor walk about and captured this shot between the 2^nd and 3^rd floor.

Then I headed to my room and started clicking and clicking and clicking and nothing. Wait! Bambi’s mother died! Nothing…so I listen to some Coast to Coast AM and turn in around 11PM. I know what you’re thinking, but the episode wasn’t about ghosts. Then, I suddenly wake up swatting my shoulder as if something was there. I snap some pictures and start capturing some serious orbage. Then, like any good ghost investigator, I go back to bed.

About an hour later I have this horrible dream that I owe material for Mr. Winslow, but he can’t open any of the files I sent him. Okay, not that dream. I dreamt that I’m desperately trying to get out of this very hotel because it’s haunted and then, when I wake up, all hell breaks loose. I walk to the end of the bed and take some more pictures and there’s this cold spot. I have never experienced a cold spot. I have experienced a warm spot in a public pool, but I’m told that’s different.

Suddenly I feel wave after wave of chills and goose bumps. I don’t get goose bumps so I am wondering if this is a walk-in clinic thing or if there’s an ointment involved. I have never had such a weird feeling, so I start snapping and start getting orbs in almost every picture I take!

A montage of some of the room visitors.

Then the weirdest thing happens. I see this flare through my camera. I didn’t catch this on film—because it went by in a fraction of a second—but as the flash is cueing up, something shoots through my viewer like a meteor. I’m like, holy shit! Where is my camera man when you need him! I am wide awake now so this isn’t some semiconscious state thing and it definitely wasn’t a bug.

I try to sleep again and I’m woken up again. Now, it’s 3AM and I have to be up a 7. So, I’m like, if you’re going to keep me up all night I want a full apparition, in the mirror, or I’m going back to sleep.

It’s a pretty weak attempt, no apparition, and it’s partially on the frame. What is the deal with ghosts?

I finally say, “Look, I have to present tomorrow, you know, conduct a training so play time is over. I need to sleep. Tomorrow night I’ve got nothing but time, so for now I please go back to room 319.”

Thankfully, I slept for the last couple of hours. This was not a frightening experience for me, to put things in perspective frightening is working for Pierce Winslow, but I would describe it as unsettling. I can look through my camera and see shit that isn’t there? Yes, I stopped taking my medications, but only because the pills were helping the government hear my thoughts.

The next morning I woke up, thanked the spirits for some sleep and snapped one picture. Yep, it had an orb in it. It’s a shame the walls are white because most of these really blend in, so for all of my sleepless trouble I got a couple of dozen meh-looking-orbs (MLOs).

Night 2:

I decided to retrace my steps and actions from last night, so before lockdown I took a round of pictures around the 3^rd floor and…

Possibly the best dust particle I have ever captured on film.

The bottom one is the same orb, only enlarged. Below is what I captured in the room during night two.

So I go to bed, I tell the ghosts to do their worst and….I wake up eight hours later to my alarm. Really? Why couldn’t the ghosts stick to the script: 1. night one sleep for training, 2. night two lots of spooky haunting stuff (SHS). I send the itinerary out weeks ahead of time. Yeah, I’m talking to you, pestergeists! Keep me up and I got next to nothing to show for it, NOTHING!  And, whereas I am not prepared to say I believe in ghosts at this time, this was a weird night and now picture all this happening with me in fishnets and stilettos. OK, don’t picture that, I’m losing enough fans lately.