The Kitchen

Another story from the hotel now. And another ghost sighting! The other ghost sightings I’ve told you about I can smell you sceptics having some kind of fit. “But you could have been asleep!” or “How drunk were you?” in suitably whiny fucking voices.

So just for you, here’s one experience I shared. During the day. At work...

It was a regular day at the hotel, back in the time I was working in the kitchen. The kitchen at the hotel was up a short flight of stairs separated from the restaurant by a pair of large swinging doors, and a particularly active (paranormally speaking) part of the hotel.
 
There were sightings of shadowy figures (not by me, a cleaner was talking to mum and stepped aside to let ‘somebody’ past her) and one occasion I recall, I went up there to collect a CD a friend wanted to borrow. It was a short distance to the CD player and the ultraviolet light of the insect zappers meant I didn’t need the lights on. As I walked to pick up the CD I heard a pair of hard soled shoes following behind me. I was wearing trainers and the footsteps were at a different pace to mine. That took me a minute to build up the courage to turn around, I can tell you. After a minute or so trying to recreate the noise I gave up.
 
Back to the story…
 
I’m in the kitchen working with a colleague (Lynne) and on this particular day, I was washing the dishes and Lynne was preparing main courses. She had just served up a meal and to let the waitress know the food was ready she shouted the standard “Meals away!” The food was set onto the pass through that divided the kitchen into the large cooking area and smaller waitress area and she went about her business of preparing the next meals.
 
After a minute or so, the meal was still sitting there, going cold. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, so I gave a slightly lounder shout, hoping my voice would carry further, before getting stuck back into the dishes. Another minute passed and the food was still sitting there. I turned to Lynne, and we shook our heads in disbelief that nobody has come to collect the food, when we hear the distinctive sound from the bottom of the stairs of swinging double doors opening.
 
“Finally!” Lynne says.
 
The scrape of traipsing footsteps echoes upstairs and we both go back to whatever we’re doing, Lynne the next meal, and me, more dishes. I glanced around just in time to see a stockinged leg in a plain flat black shoe disappear around the corner as I picked up the next plate out of the sink. After washing it the waitress still hasn’t reappeared carrying the meals (which by now have been sitting for a good few minutes).
 
I turned round to see Lynne give an exasperated shrug, so I walked around the corner to “politely request that the waitperson exercise a little haste”. I poked my head back around the corner, mouth agape.
 
Lynne mirrored my gormless expression.
 
“Is there nobody there?” she asked.
 
“Did you hear somebody come upstairs?” I replied.
 
After a minute of asking each other questions back and forth like an Abbot and Costello routine, we both confirmed that: yes, we heard the doors open; yes, we heard footsteps; no, there’s nobody there.
 
Eventually the double doors swung open and the waitress finally appeared and rather than wanting to know what had taken her so long, we were both desperate to find out if she’d opened the doors come, upstairs, then gone back down for something.
 
She said that she hadn’t been upstairs, and she hadn’t heard us shouting. She had to check a guest in at reception. The reception where she had been for the past few minutes.
 
Wide awake, corroborated by another witness. There. Told you.

 
That’s All, Folks! Next week, it’s back to the Royal Oak, for POLTERGEISTS!! Have you liked/shared/retweeted? You have? Thank you! You may now go. But come back next week!!

Have you ever had an experience you can't explain? Let me know in the comments! As before, I’d like this to be a serious discussion, so no jokes, memes, etc. And (I really shouldn’t have to tell you this) please be respectful of others!