Archive for March, 2013

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Ruby Tuesday’s, New Mexico

March 9, 2013

My best friend found this subreddit. He told me I need to share this story. It’s kind of weird and unbelievable. I have no proof it happened, but if you want to hear a story…gather around.

In the winter of 2009 my brother and I took a road trip from Portland, Oregon to Port St Lucie, Florida and back again. We made the trip to visit my sister who lives in Port St Lucie. She and her husband just had their first child and my brother and I were excited to see the newborn.

On the trip to Port St Lucie we took a combination of freeways from the northwest all the way down to the southeast corner (basically a diagonal route), but several times throughout our voyage we were tremendously delayed by snow. The trip which should have taken no more than three days ended up taking five. Because of this delay, we had to cut short our visit with our sister’s family.

On the trip back to Portland we decided to take I-10 the entire way. This stretch of freeway runs all the way from Florida to Los Angeles and would completely keep us away from the snow. The I-10 route added several hundred miles, but we both needed to be home for work the following Monday, and this was a sure fire way not to be delayed.

The first day of the return trip was uneventful, but we did manage to drive 1,300 miles from Port St Lucie to San Antonio before stopping for the night. The plan was to make it all the way to Las Vegas the next night, which would leave us with about a fourteen hour final day drive. The trip was going well. It wasn’t until we left San Antonio that the glitches started happening.

The car we took on this trip was a 2008 Honda Civic Hybrid. The entire trip we had been getting right around 35mpg (this is digitally displayed on the dash), so we had become very aware of how many miles we could squeeze out of a tank. We knew to refuel around 350 miles, but we also knew we could stretch that number into the low 400’s if need be.

About 100 miles outside San Antonio, I notice the fuel gauge was dropping noticeably faster than usual, so I clicked the button to change the dashboard display only to see the car was getting barley 26mpg. At first I was shocked, but I reasoned it to possibly driving uphill the entire way (I still don’t know)? I thought throughout the course of an entire tank of fuel that it would eventually balance itself out and we would finish the tank within that 35mpg range. I was wrong.

I kept a very detailed log of this entire trip, and this one stop in Fort Stockton, Texas is the only anomaly in the entire book. The car which had consistently held around 35mpg suddenly finished an entire tank off at 25.8mpg. That is over 100 mile difference in the vehicles normal range. I still to this day cannot figure out why there was such a drastic shift in fuel consumption in that 300 mile stretch from San Antonio. I’ve reflected on that tank of gas several times since this happened, and I have almost come to the conclusion that it was an intentional glitch in order to make us pullover where we did.

Our original plan was to refuel about 50 miles later in a town that I cannot remember, but we obviously ran short on fuel. Anyway, with our GPS programmed to Las Vegas, Nevada, we headed back onto the road in which the GPS directed. Pretty soon after we got back on the road we realized we were no longer on I-10 heading west, instead we were north on highway 285 (here’s a TIL for some people. Evenly numbered highways and freeways are heading East/West while odds are north/south). We didn’t think much about being off the interstate because many times throughout the drive we had been directed onto bypass highways. We assumed this was just another such instance.

After about an hour and a half of driving on highway 285 we crossed into New Mexico, which was about two hours earlier than we should have crossed the border. By this time we realized the GPS thought this was a more efficient way to go to Vegas even though by all accounts it is about an hour faster if we had stayed on the 10. We were annoyed, but decided to just stick it out with the GPS and keep heading north through New Mexico.

Nearly five hours after refueling in Fort Stockton, my brother and I were hungry and decided it was time to find somewhere to eat. Driving through this part New Mexico is kind of lonely. There are very few towns, and where there are towns, they are small and on the verge of becoming ghosts. I think their economies are built around helping travelers fill up their gas tanks. Other than that, I cannot see a reason for them to exist.

My brother and I have talked about what happened next so many times, but we still cannot figure it all out. We passed through a small town with a couple gas stations and we know the town was named Vaughn, NM, and then about 20 miles later we drove through a town call Encino, NM which did not have a gas station (that we can recall). In fact, the second town didn’t really seem to have much there if anything. I wasn’t sure if anyone was living there. I seem to remember questioning why it existed in the first place, but then quickly dismissing it and driving right through.

Not even ten miles after passing through Encino, NM, we surprisingly came upon a city/town that wasn’t loaded in the GPS. This wasn’t a big deal, because I was using a cheap handheld that lost its signal all the time, but usually the only things it didn’t display were newly built roads and recent construction areas. This city was definitely not brand new, so I figured the GPS was being buggy. The oddest part of finding this city, neither of us remembers seeing any warning we were coming up on a town of this size. It had several fast food joints, restaurants, hotels, motels, grocery store (Albertsons maybe) and even some bars. If I were to guess, I would say this city was roughly 10-20k people.

We decided to pull off and grab a bite to eat. Normally we probably would have grabbed some fast food, but my brother saw a Ruby Tuesday’s and really wanted to try it out. There were a couple Ruby Tuesday’s around the Portland area at the time, but neither of us had been there. We had just heard they had a pretty good salad bar, and I guess my brother was in the mood for something other than fast food. I went along with the suggestion because I was sick of eating junk.

((((((for the rest of this story, I will be N and my brother will be G)))))

We pulled into the Ruby Tuesday’s parking lot, got out of the car and walked in the restaurant. Immediately upon entering a waitress who was milling around the hostess station says, ‘Oh my word, is that N and G?’ Both my brother and I answered that it was indeed us, and the waitress went on to ask how life was in Portland. Suddenly it clicked, this girl knows who we are, but we are over 1,000 miles from home. Did we know her from back home?

My brother and I both gave very basic vague answers to her question, and I could tell she was kind of unsettled that my brother and I were being evasive. When we were seated, my brother immediately asked me where we knew her from, which was the same question I was going to ask him. I told him that I had no idea who she was, and that she obviously had mistaken us with some other people. Not more than a minute later this guy bartender comes up and says, “No fucking way, G and N. You back for jobs?”

What? My brother went on to tell the guy they had us mistaken with some other people. He laughed and dismissed my brother’s response as a joke. The bartender continued on seamlessly and started asking us how we fared in the three month anatomy and physiology course we had taken at Oregon State.

I remember thinking all of the sudden; this is not a coincidence anymore. My brother and I had taken a three month 15 credit A&P class at Portland State University when we were in our early 20’s (We were late 20’s when this interaction happened). Finally, I asked the guy exactly where they knew us from, and he just kind of paused and started looking me over. Then he said, “Oh damn, you guys just look really similar to some people that used to work here.”

He apologized and claimed he had to get back to work. After a bit, our food came and my brother and I noticed they had switched out our waitresses from the girl who recognized us when we walked in. That wasn’t a big deal, although a bit strange. Next a guy who I can only guess was the manager starts walking over to our table with a big smile on his face. As he gets within about ten feet of us he kind of starts looking over my head and stops. I think someone behind me was directing him not to talk to us. After he received the message he sharply turned 90 degrees and walked away without saying a word.

This had quickly become the most awkward meal of our lives. It went from people acting like it was a celebration for us to have shown up to everyone avoiding eye contact with us at all cost. After we finished up with our meals the waitress came told us the cash registers were frozen and that our meal was on the house.

I really wanted to ask the waitress what the name of the city was that we were in, but I also really wanted to get out of there. After leaving the restaurant we were running pretty low on gas, so I decided to refuel before we got back on the highway. I assumed the name of the city would be printed on the receipt. We were not that lucky.

This city strip was a one way road on the eastern side of the highway. When we left Ruby Tuesday’s the only way to turn was right, and it headed straight back to northbound 285. In order to refuel I would have to head north on the one way street and turn right on a side street to head back to the southern part of town to the gas station. The only available right hand turn off that one way street was closed so I was forced back onto the highway without fueling up. About 20 minutes later we found a truck stop at the intersection of 285 and I-40 where we finally filled up.

The rest of the trip was very ordinary. We talked at length about how weird that Ruby Tuesday’s was in the middle of New Mexico. We came up with solutions about how we had doppelgangers with the same names. We joked about how people that look similar follow the exact same paths in life regardless of their upbringing. We talked ourselves into it being a major coincidence. When we finally got back to Portland we decided to do a little research and find out the name of this town.

Here is the google maps picture of that stretch of highway.

http://i.imgur.com/sY3NB89.jpg

We know we refueled at a truck stop at the intersection of 285 and I-40, which means that we had to have passed through Vaughn and Encino, so there should be a city between the truck stop and Encino. I don’t see anywhere on the regular map or the satellite map where this little city could possibly be. We have never really been able to answer what happened that day. I can still vividly remember the waitress’s face of unease by the way my brother and I were behaving, the bartenders’ voice change when he figured out we were not the people he thought we were, and thinking the manager looked identical to the actor Ken Moreno. My brother and I know this stuff happened, but we have never been able to find the solution.

Maybe some redditors can give me an answer or maybe this was just a glitch. Maybe someone has driven that stretch of road and knows the town.

tl;dr apparently my brother and I worked at a Ruby Tuesday’s in the middle of New Mexico

Posted by * by hicks53081; Glitch in the Matrix

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Prison Ghosts

March 7, 2013

The prison I worked at was pretty old. When I first started there I used to do a lot of nights as overtime. You would be locked on the wing on your own with no key’s. You were only there incase something happened in the night and you would call the grounds staff (night patrol staff) and they would respond.

One wing in particular was supposedly haunted. The prison used to be an air base during the war and was bombed a few times. Supposedly quite a few people died on the grounds. One place in particular was hit bad and this is where they built one of the wings.

While I was working my night shift on this wing. I could hear what sounded like a bugle or horn of some sort. Like someone was practicing a tune? I went through all the channels on the TV, walked up and down the wing and even went to the windows but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from? I was very late/early morning. It just seemed to be everywhere?

Then… I was in the rest room watching TV and all of a sudden the back 2 legs of my chair lifted an dropped as if someone had pushed it forward while I was sat on it? Needless to say I shat my pants!!! Ran to the office and asked the team to come down. I thought one of them was fucking with me. That’s when they told me about the wing.

Some staff say they’ve seen a pilot wondering around?

– Posted by HMPdude; IAmA ex Prison officer who worked in a high security prison. AMA

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Why is the 5 year old allowed to run up and down the stairs to the attic and play all night.

March 5, 2013

My grandparents own a haunted house! I semi grew up there and was never ever nope nope nope comfortable. Short story – my adopted sister came to meet my side of the family and stayed in my room alone while I I stayed at my bfs house for some alone times. The next morning she told me she thought it was weird that the 5 year old was allowed to run up and down the stairs to the attic and play all night, did aunt/uncle know? Then I showed her how the stairs were blocked off and so packed of stuff it would have been impossible. It was then she decided to sleep on the couch at bf’s house instead of a nice bed.

– Posted by Wtfgrandma; Reddit

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March 5, 2013

This will probably never be seen because the post is already at 2,400 comments but I swear on my life that it is absolutely true.

One of my close friends lived next to a house that was always vacant. It would sell, people would move in, and then one day they’d be gone and the house would be up for sale again. One summer, when the house was listed again and the last family had moved out, we decided to go take a tour and eat some Jack in the Box we had picked up. We weren’t very smart sometimes and thought it would be cool to play chicken with whatever was haunting this house. My friend was really skinny and crawled through the dog door that led straight into the kitchen, then opened the back door for me. We went through all of the rooms and it was pretty nondescript, just a typical 50s style bungalow house with a similar layout to his home, lots of pretty woodwork and built-ins. After we determined that the house really wasn’t that creepy after all, we sat down in the dining area, on the floor, across from a little horseshoe shaped nook with a kitchen table and built-in bench. It was dusk out but the windows didn’t have curtains and it never got that dark in our city, anyway. At this point, we had been in the house for maybe 25 minutes and after we finished eating we stayed sitting just to hang out and talk since we weren’t spooked out at all. All of a sudden, mid-sentence, completely out of nowhere, my vision went black and I felt this eery coldness wash all over me (I’m getting chills thinking about it), a feeling so thick I felt like it penetrated my through my body down to my bones. At the very same moment this happened, my friend screamed. I virtually could not see anything and was groping around trying to find something to grab onto and I felt so unsettled and ..cold. There’s really no other word for it. After what felt like hours, I felt my friend’s hands in mine and he pulled me to my feet and drug me through the house to the back door. He kept pulling on my arm and I still couldn’t see anything. We got outside and slowly ..you know that feeling when you get a whole body shiver and it runs down your spine? As soon as I was outside, that’s what I felt, except this was a whole body shiver that started at the tip of my toes and went all the way up to my scalp, and unexpectedly and suddenly I could see again. My friend was as pale as a sheet and looked absolutely terrified. I felt off and sort of, gross, I guess is the best word, and in shock. I told him that I couldn’t see at all until I was outside, that it felt like I had been enveloped in blackness. He was just staring at me and I finally asked him why he had screamed. He hugged me and told me that he pulled me out of the house as soon as I started reaching around like I was blind because a little girl who was completely black, and yet see through, crawled out from under the table we were across from and sat on top of me.

– Posted by aigret; Reddit

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Imaginary Friend G

March 5, 2013

Like a lot of kids, I had an imaginary friend until I was about 9 or 10. I don’t remember playing with him, but I do vaguely remember going to see a psychiatrist about him. I described him as looking like me (red hair, glasses) and having the same birthday as I do, and I called him G because my first name starts with a G, according to my mother. As I grew up, G faded away.

Fast forward to my 20th birthday. I came home from college for a dinner with my parents and younger siblings. We’re joking around about our childhoods when my sister mentions G. My dad gets quiet and my mom goes pale. She demands we drop the subject. The next day, after my siblings had gone, my parents sit me down and explain that I had a twin brother who died when we were about a year old; he had a congenital heart problem and passed away during surgery. They had elected not to tell me, although they couldn’t really explain why. My mom kept the letters G and I wrote to each other (mostly scribbles) and all the pictures I drew of he and I playing. She thinks I was with my brother.

TL;DR I had an imaginary friend who may have been my deceased brother.

– Posted by ShortScribbler; Reddit

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“Make sure you stop at the sign ahead.”

March 5, 2013

When I was 16 and learning how to drive, I had something happen to me that I can’t explain and still creeps me out a bit to this day.

I was out in a driving school vehicle with the driving instructor. We were probably an hour into the two hour session. It wasn’t my first time driving and it wasn’t my first time driving with one of the school’s instructors, so I was pretty calm and relaxed and pretty much knew what I was doing at this point.

Anyway, we’re headed down this road and approaching a Stop sign. It’s still light enough to see what’s coming without headlights so it’s not like it’s hard to see. I was probably going maybe 35-40 mph. It was in a residential area, but on the edge of it. No homes were along the road I was traveling or down the cross street with at the stop sign. It was a 4-way stop because as we approached, I remembered seeing people stopped on the cross-street waiting.

Maybe 200-300 yards away from the Stop sign, the driving instructor says to me “Make sure you stop at the sign ahead.”

I think to myself “Why would just remind me to Stop at the sign?” And then say out loud “Yep!” just to humor her and be nice. It’s still pretty far away, so it was a pretty odd reminder.

The next moment I consciously remember is being on the same road but being 200-300 yards past the Stop sign. I don’t remember stopping. I don’t even know if I did or not. I have no memory of it. (We’ve all had the auto-pilot thing where you just suddenly realize you’re 5 miles down the road on the interstate going 60 mph…but this isn’t that kind of experience.)

Just as my conscious mind picks up and realizes that we’re past the stop sign and I have no memory of the past 2-3 minutes, the driving instructor turns to me and says “Did we Stop at the sign?” I looked over at her, and we both knew.

We didn’t even need to say it. We both knew. It didn’t need to be discussed.

Neither of us remembered if we stopped at that stop sign. We don’t know what happened for those 2-3 minutes.

– Posted by huffdadde; Reddit

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The Camby House

March 4, 2013

I was 18 and my friend Ronnie was 20, we’re both from Mooresville Indiana. It’s fairly rural in most areas around there, and as most places like this, you always get all kinds of stories but it’s all mostly unsubstantiated crap.

There is however, or at least, was, a very old mansion out in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Indianapolis airport property. Here are some links.

The Camby House

More Modern

An Entire Page About It

Needless to say, the place is creepy as fuck. (A couple years ago, someone set fire to it for absolutely no reason, so it’s basically a ruin now). Quite a few times as a teenager and young adult my friends and I would sneak in, it was pretty terrifying inside. It had a chain gate all around it, but the woods behind the house had a gate that someone had bolt cut through, so you could sneak in the back. We’d enter through the basement, which looked like a tomb because the floor was complete dirt, and greatly changed altitude all over it and there were many rooms in the basement, like a stone and dirt labyrinth. There was a giant fireplace on the first floor, and two separate upstairs that were exclusive of each other, they each had their own staircases and couldn’t be reached except by going back down and up staircases.

I’d been multiple times, and creepy stuff always happened, but nothing supernatural, just a bunch of kids in a creepy house surrounded by woods with no light around for some miles, so it was dark as hell. Except one time…

Like I said, Ronnie and I were from around here, and one night we decided just to check it out because it seemed like fun. Was October, so that’s when things are extra creepy in Indiana. Not only is it halloween time but it’s always windy, a bit chilly, and the trees are extra creepy at night. So we head out there in his car, and after finally finding the road to the place (lots of roads back there), we move the road blocks and start heading down the gravel dirt road to the large patch of trees we know holds the house.

Right before the house, the road curves a bit into a little turnaround or circle where the house was. So as we turn the corner, the part I always loved, was the reveal of this super creepy house in the headlights, except this time, as we turned and the lights hit the house Ronnie slammed on the breaks and I immediately see why.

A man, in a full black cloak, was pacing back and forth, very slowly in front of the house, outside of the gates. Now when I say cloak, I mean like an actual head to toe cloak with a hood. He doesn’t even act like he sees us, and it was absolutely pitch black out here, and he had no light source and I saw no car of his or anything. He’s just pacing back and forth, and the creepiest thing of all, he’s holding a giant antenna or pole directly in front of him, just straight up vertically. He’s just pacing back and forth, and we have no idea why. Guy doesn’t even acknowledge the lights directly on him. The most unsettling part was how slow he was pacing. Like half of normal walking speed, like he was intently focused on walking this straight perfect line, and holding this pole or antenna perfectly straight in front of him.

I looked at Ronnie and said, let’s get the fuck out of here! He obliged.

Weirdest event ever for me.

– Posted by Azazel_The_Fox; Reddit