Update: Classes no longer require sign-in.
Listen, I get it. Times are tough and the job market doesn’t have much to offer at the moment. I’m sure it’s especially tough to get a job when you’re…well…dead. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been occupying this property for way too long to not be paying me my rent. I don’t care if you’re the murdered spirit of some European monarch. That’s not my problem. I need my money.
I assume it’s you who’s been leaving rotting corpses piled up in the living room as a form of currency. Do you really think I can accept this? I can’t take maggot filled, rotting corpses of rats to the bank. I know because I’ve tried and they wouldn’t even let me through the front door. I’m not even allowed to visit that branch anymore.
Aren’t there some living relatives you can haunt into writing you a check or something? I’m not buying any of this “we weren’t as rich as people think” crap anymore. Your family was responsible for 74% of all the wealth in Europe for a few centuries so there’s no way in hell you’re conveniently strapped for cash now. I mean, if you really are some sort of royal ghost.
Listen, I wouldn’t be pressing you so hard on the issue if I could get some other tenants to move in here but that’ll never happen as long as you’re hanging around haunting people. It wasn’t even a week after I installed the new kitchen cabinet set that they started leaking with blood. Plus, all the slamming of the doors. I’ve had to replace ALL OF THEM over six times at this point and don’t even get me started on the moaning and groaning coming from the basement. You expect me to just pay for all this shit out of pocket? The least you could do is put in a word with some dead presidents to haunt my bank account or something.
I mean I almost had a two year lease locked in with a nice couple until you had to scare these poor people with your incessant late night yelling and wall scratching. Is it some old european monarch tradition to traumatize innocent people by hovering old photographs of their deceased relatives around them while they’re trying to eat dinner? I’m not trying to be insensitive to your undead culture but if you want to do all that stuff in here you’re going to have to pay. I mean the least you can do is keep your antics to yourself up in the attic or somewhere away from other people.
Plus, you’re lowering the property value of this house dramatically and it’s to the point where I almost can’t afford to keep this place. If I lose it, the bank is going to sell the lot to some developers who will end up demolishing it and building a hookah bar or something and I know neither of us want that.
I understand you might not care for me. Especially after the time I invited a priest over to get you out of here by performing an exorcism. Or that time I invited a voodoo priestess to cast you out using a sacrificial goat. I just don’t really know what other options I have here. I really really don’t want to have to get the authorities involved with this. Especially because they laughed me off the phone last time I called them about it. It’s like, what do you mean haunting spirits are out of your jurisdiction? To add insult to injury, the number they gave me for the Ghostbusters wasn’t even real. So, I’m begging you, I don’t have any recourse here. Please just pay me the damn rent.
This post appears courtesy of our January 2021 publishing partnership with The Hard Times. Every month, Widget partners with an organisation to feature one post/week from their contributors, members, or so on. View the other posts from our partner’s contributors here.
Check out the sketch comedy group The Midnight Gardeners League. Also check out Up The Blunx. The only podcast by black punks for black punks.