Snack shack madeira beach

Background: my (34) GF (37) has several kids from a previous relationship. We have been together for a few years and have been trying to work out details for moving in together. I usually spend a few nights a week at her place and have my own place for when I have work. Since her kids are not mine, I’m always hesitant to tell them what they can/cannot do. My gf has told me to treat her kids as if they were mine and that I can tell them what to do if needed. Despite that, I rarely tell her kids to do anything except for “no snacking before dinner,” “listen to your mother,” and for them to clean up after themselves (candy wrappers, empty water bottles, etc).
One day a few months ago, I was walking in the house with groceries. Her teenage daughter “Sam” (14)(fake name) is chilling in the kitchen wearing only a bra and short shorts. I told her, “Sam, put a shirt on.” She became extremely upset and stormed off to her room. To be fair, I didn’t say “please put a shirt on” but I also didn’t yell; my tone was just tired from running errands and bringing in groceries.
My gf explained that her kids are used to walking around the house half-naked and told me that I must’ve been raised “more conservatively.” I told her that I wasn’t going to ask anything of the kids that I wouldn’t do myself; on nights when I’m sleeping over and need something from the kitchen, I put a shirt/shorts on before leaving her room. She started bringing up, “well what about if we go to the beach or to the pool, she’s wearing a swimsuit.” I said I think that a swimsuit is different than just wearing a bra since everyone is in swimsuits at the beach/pool, they’re not just hanging out half naked in the common areas of the house (kitchen, living room, etc). We both left it at that since nothing became of it.
One day my gf and her kids were going to the beach and “Sam” stated “don’t invite OP.” When she asked why, “Sam” stated that “I think OP stares at my boobs.” When she told me this, I was taken aback since I’m the person who isn’t cool with her kids walking around the house half naked. My gf told me that “because you made a big deal about the shirt, “Sam” thinks you’re staring at her.”
It doesn’t make sense to me and I’m not sure how to de-escalate the situation. I’ve only told Sam to put a shirt on once. This has never been an issue with the other kids. Trying to talk to her about this is impossible; since before even telling her to put a shirt on, she’s never wanted to engage me. I’ve tried starting conversations with her before in passing but she cold-shoulders me and acts like she didn’t hear me. I try not to take offense and I haven’t called her out on ignoring me since she’s kind of just at that age when teens can be a bit moody or angry. The only time she talks to me is when she wants a ride to the store or to a friend’s house. Aside from that, she doesn’t speak to me.
AITA for telling my GF’s daughter to put a shirt on?

Hi all,
I'm wondering if anyone else has any experience creating passive income in a beach town. I live in what I would consider an up & coming beach town.
I have had lots of ideas but want to stay away from the standard brick and mortar style tourist traps. Realistically I have about 5k for startup costs so AirBnB, boat rentals, charter business are not really attainable...yet. Although a sailboat charter would be the long term goal.
Some other ideas I've had: Ice Machines Vending Machines(have a lead on a boardwalk spot and could try to offer more than just snacks i.e sunscreen, chapstick, toys, etc) Scooter & bike rental The town also has a good sized port, but I've yet to find a way to capitalize on that. Banana stand(there's always money in the banana stand) - this might be too much of a time commitment
Does anyone have experience with starting a business in a beachtown, or with the ideas listed above?
Ps I have a full time job so I'm looking for something semi-automated that can be managed on weekends and evenings.

Now that the Tish saga is done, it's time to move on to our landlord's retribution. This is a long one because I don't want to divide the story. TL;DR at the end.
Hubby and I lived in this apartment complex from 2016-2019. Until 2018, the apartment next to Tish's was rented by a Dominican couple who (apart from the Colosseum they erected in their living room every weekend for televised boxing matches) were very nice. So, Hubby and I were kind of bummed when the couple decided that they'd had enough of our complex. They came home one day to find at their doorstep a big-ass rat the size of a cat snacking merrily on some KFC bones that had dropped from Tish's garbage can. I would also argue that the couple probably found it hard to sleep with Tish's headboard slapping against their bedroom wall all weekend long (cue Vybez Kartel & Spice).
We were further disappointed when we realized they were being replaced by a mother and her two daughters. It's not that I don't like kids. I just that Jay wasn't exactly a model for confidence.
The family was quiet and timid, but it was clear they had problems. Big problems. According to what Tina would tell me in "casual" conversations in the laundry room, she had once sat upon her parents’ very high pedestal and - by her own account - had been violently shoved from that pedestal when she found herself pregnant with her first daughter. She'd tried to climb another very high pedestal and managed to stay there long enough to marry and have her second child, but "the cheating dog" had kicked Tina from the apex of prosperity to the pits of impoverishment once more. Heavy shit for laundry room talk.
But, it was hard to sympathize with Tina. The girls, unfortunately, seemed to understand all too well that they were Tina’s “burden”. The teenager (Mel) was ferrety and surly - which some would say is normal for a 15yo - but do 15yos spank their own sisters? Not fight - spank. As a parent would. And the 8yo, while sweet, tore through boundaries like acrylic nails through cheap toilet paper.
Tish immediately hated Tina because there was only enough room in this complex for one shit show at a time. Every time I saw Tish and Tina pass one another around the complex, the air would grow cold and the birds would flee to the West.
But, Tish and Jay left not long after Tina and her girls moved in. If y’all are looking for the catfight of the century, I am so sorry, but I must disappoint you. Jay's father returned from graduate school and got primary custody of Jay. That meant Tish was no longer entitled to child support, and she couldn't afford the apartment anymore. Hubby and I sacrificed a goat to the Most High in gratitude.
But then a few weeks after Tish and Jay left, Hubby and I noticed strange noises coming from the apartment upstairs. It should have been empty, but we heard chairs dragging against the floor at all hours of the evening. I called our landlord and asked if anyone had moved in, but she told us, "No."
"But there is someone upstairs," I told her. She dismissed me. Said there was no one up there.
Then why, only a few nights after that, was the security gate to Tish's old apartment open? And why were the lights on?
I called our landlord, but our landlord told me to take it easy, which was nice speak for "Leave me alone, you paranoid dumbfuck.”
Well, Hubby was sure some hobo was shacking up in Tish’s old apartment, which was highly likely considering where we lived. Our former apartment complex rests within one of the only remaining residential nooks in a fast-growing bacchanal city. On the street to the north is a string of touristy restaurants. On the street to the south is the sleaziest bar in five miles, and on the street to the right was a brothel masquerading as an AirBnB. It never once crossed my mind that the girls in 6-inch heels, batty riders, and lashes out to Wednesday walking up and down the road at 1:00 a.m. might were “working”…
Anyway, Hubby decided to go check on the apartment upstairs, and lo - the security gate and front door were both unlocked. Hubby figured Tish or our landlord must have left the doors open by accident, which allowed whoever the hell it was dragging chairs over our heads to enter the vacant apartment. I passed this knowledge on to our landlord, who assured me that she’d send a locksmith to change the locks.
It was an evening after the locksmith changed the locks that Hubby and I came home late to find ourselves face-to-face with the intruder upstairs. At the door to Tish’s old apartment was Mel. With her was a man who, though young, was clearly older than Mel, picking at the security gate lock.
When Mel saw us, she jumped so high she nearly took down some shingles from the roof. The young man, however, bid us a very cordial good evening. Then, he finished picking the locks to the doors and entered the apartment. Yes, my dear people. Mel had broken into the apartment upstairs and set up camp.
You better believe I called my landlord and told her about what we’d just seen. She was shocked. Was I sure that’s who I’d seen breaking into the apartment? Mel was such a mannerly, mature young woman. It must have been someone else! I guess I wasn't just a paranoid dumbfuck, but a blind one as well.
Anyway, a few days later, Mel and Tina started moving furniture into Tina’s apartment. They didn't say anything to us when they saw us. I wondered if I was the bad guy, but Hubby said no: I should call our landlord and report.
"Oh, don't worry about that. I told Tina that Mel could camp out there for a while."
What?
Well, friends, what happened was that our landlord called Tina to confront her about Mel breaking into the apartment. But then Tina told our landlord about her recent fall from grace and then lamented about the horrors of parenting a teenager all alone in a one-bedroom apartment. She cried so much that our landlord decided to make a deal. For $200 a month, Tina could rent the empty apartment for Mel under the condition that when a new tenant was found Mel would move out.
Okay, fine, I thought. If that's how you want to run your apartments, that's up to you. I'll stay out of your business next time.
And that's just what I did when I came home from work one day to find an American couple dressed in bathing suits trying to open the gate to the complex.
And I continued to do so the week after that when Hubby saw Mel cleaning the apartment while three Australian ladies grilled by the complex pool.
But, one night when a hooker knocked on our door, I'd had enough.
At first, I tried to give Tina and Mel the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this was something they had worked out with the landlord. Maybe this was actually the landlord playing her hand at AirBnB. So, I worded my texts carefully. Asked our landlord if she'd found a new tenant, since we'd seen some new people in the complex. If she'd been trying out short-term renting since so we noticed so many tourists roaming the complex. If she knew that there were strange people coming in and out every week. No reply.
Turns out we weren't the only tenants concerned - and ignored. Two of our other neighbors had also tried to contact our landlord to tell her about the strange tourists hanging bathing suits all over the fences and ordering "fair" company in the apartment above us. Our landlord, however, never responded to any of us. Didn't even blue tick.
By the time frat boys started renting the apartment, Hubby and I had had enough. We found a new apartment and gave notice. Oddly enough, our landlord got that message as soon as I sent it. She didn't bother asking us why we were moving out, and I didn't push the matter. I didn't even make a fuss when she didn't give us our security deposit back. In my city, it's rare you get that back anyhow.
But then a month later, I got a call from our old landlord. She said she'd assessed the apartment and found no damages, so she had our security deposit ready for us. I mean, money is money, and that was our money, so Hubby and I set a date to meet the landlord at the old place.
Our landlord was oddly chatty when we arrived. At first, we thought she was just excited because she was finally giving the complex a much-needed facelift. But then she started talking about Tina.
[Dramatization below]
Landlord: "Do you remember Tina?"
Hubby looks at me. I look at Hubby. “Of course."
Landlord: "Well, she doesn't live here anymore."
Crickets.
Landlord: "I evicted her."
Quizzical eyebrows.
Landlord: "You won't believe what she was doing."
Side eye-side eye.
Landlord: "Well, she was running an AirBnB! In the apartment right above you!"
Pikachu gasp: "No!"
Apparently, after we left, the landlord came to assess our apartment. When she entered the complex, who did she happen to run into?
A British couple in their bathing suits.
They asked her if she knew where the beach was, and the landlord gave them the directions in exchange for a glimpse at the AirBnB listing they'd contracted.
There it was - Tish's old apartment rented out at $800 a week!!! Take away the $200 a month Tina had arranged to rent the apartment, that was a $3000 profit!
The landlord confronted Tina, and as Tina packed her bags under the close supervision of a police officer, Tina railed on and on about how our landlord was being so cruel to a single mother. How could a fellow woman deny Tina the right to make a living for her girls? No one was using the apartment anyway! She'd sue, she sue for squatter's rights! She was a single mother!!!
So ends the Tina tale, but we have some extra credits. Our landlord realized how lucrative the AirBnB business could be, so she evicted all of the tenants and renovated the complex to open it up for short-term renting. That all came to an end when a 17yo boy drowned in the pool and the family sued the landlord for negligence.
All's well that end's well, eh?
TL;DR: Neighbor breaks into an empty apartment, manages to weasel the landlord into renting it to her for $200/month, and then sublets it on AirBnB for $800 a week!

(Apologies to anyone who reads this in full. But this joke is hideously long on purpose. It's effects are best if you actually sit someone down and tell it to them. I took up my workmates entire lunch break with this and he hasn't spoken to me all evening.)
There are one hundred priests of an unspecified religion. They have arrived dressed in the symbols of their faith in a new land to spread the word of their 'Superbook'. This could be any land, France, Egypt, Feudal Japan, the Toronto Film Festival, any land. Absolutely any land you can imagine, Gondor, Pangaea, 1992 or your own home and surrounding lands which are unique to you.
Upon arriving in this strange new land they learn that the people here have no knowledge of Superbook. They decide that the best way to spread the word is to construct a building as a symbol of the new faith. So they purchased some basic tools and set to work gathering wood for their shrine. As there were one hundred priests in their prime the shrine was constructed in under a week.
It was a basic thing. The sort of shrine you would look at and say "that's pretty shit. Did children build this? You didn't tell me there were feral children around.". A central trunk with a roughly carved deity symbol nailed to the top stood in a forest clearing. A few rows of log seats encircled it and around the edges stood a few tall torches burning incense.
The priests stood back and looked proud over their creation, happy that they could begin spreading the words and illustrations of Superbook. It was suggested by one of the priests that "Hey we should go for a drink to celebrate our success!" to which exactly half of the priests thought would be a good idea. So fifty of the priests headed down to the local pub where they spent the night drinking whatever beverages Superbook allowed.
Upon returning from their celebrations the priests were greeted by a horrifying sight. "Have I got beverage in my eyes!?" one of the priests was heard to say "or has something destroyed our shrine!?". The priest was correct, before them lay the ruins of their primitive shrine, a tangle of wood and limbs all set ablaze by the incense torches.
How exactly all fifty priests who remained at the shrine managed to perish as the single tall, thin structure collapsed remains a mystery to this day. As the priests stood in shock staring and mourning over their lost friends, one of them turned to notice something that looked out of place. As he squinted he could make out on the horizon a figure all in black, speeding away on an unspecified vehicle. It could be a motorbike, a sports car, a horse and carriage, a horse without a carriage, absolutely any vehicle you can think of, a bicycle, a unicycle, a pangolin, or a petrol powered pangolin.
But it was too late, the man disappeared over the horizon. As the remaining priests gathered their thoughts, one of them suggested that they should not be discouraged, and that their fallen friends would want them to rebuild the shrine in memory of them.
The priests agreed and set about building a new shrine! bigger and better than the first to remember this tragic day. They quarried stones, they cut down trees and they sewed curtains, nice curtains, I mean REALLY nice curtains, with tassels and everything. It took the fifty priests a few weeks to complete but eventually they were able to stand back and admire their new creation.
It was a quaint chapel on the hill. The sort of chapel you would look at and say "hey look at that quaint little chapel, and oh damn check out those nice curtains!". A trodden dirt path led to the entrance of a small stone structure, inside was the picture of simplicity and modesty. A few rows of pews on a polished wooden floor, and an altar stood in front of a patchwork deity symbol.
As the priests admired their new chapel, they remarked that yes, their fallen friends would be happy with this. One of the priests suggested that they visit a local theme park to celebrate this day. Exactly half of the priests agreed, they spent the day riding deity approved rides, gambling deity approved amounts of money and not riding deity condemned rides.
Upon returning from their celebrations the priests were greeted by a horrifying sight. "Have I got deity approved theme park snacks in my eyes!?" one of the priests was heard to say "or has something destroyed our chapel!?". The priest was correct, on the hill lay a pill of stone rubble, limbs and silky smooth curtain tassels.... which was all on fire for some reason.
As the priests stood staring in horror over their lost friends, one of them turned to notice something that, yes, upon the horizon he could just make out the man in black speeding into the distance. But it was too late, he was gone. As the remaining priests took care of the dead in the way decreed by Superbook, one of them suggested that this should not be the end, and that their fallen friends would want them to rebuild the chapel in memory of them.
The priests agreed and set about pillaging neighbouring villages for building supplies. They gathered glass, mixed cement, smelted iron, mined for gold and expanded their quarry. They didn't just rebuild the chapel, they built a fully fledged church! The sort of church that when you refer to it like "Oh it's up by the church", people would know what you are talking about and benefit from your informative directions. It had taken the twenty five priests six months of labour but there it stood. A paved path led through an iron fence, protection against and would-be-church-destroyers and towards an imposing stone structure. Stain glass windows adorned the front complete with deity symbols, the pews could seat a thousand and a golden forged Superbook sat upon the altar.
The twenty five priests patted themselves on the back and said a prayer for the lost friends. One priest suggested that after six months they deserved a celebratory meal to mark the occasion. Twelve priests agreed whilst the rest stayed to rest, content in the safety of their shiny new iron fence. The twelve priests spent the evening at a nearby Italian restaurant, because everyone is allowed to eat Italian food.
After an evening of scoffing increasingly abstract pasta shapes the twelve priests returned to their church. One of the priests was heard to say "Have I got tagliatelle in my eye!? Or has someone knocked down our church!? AGAIN!" The scene that greeted them was one of sorrow and anger. Sorrow for their dead friends, crushed under heaps of stone and glass. Anger at their dead friends, for placing so much faith in an iron fence. Yet more anger at the figure they could see vanishing over the horizon.
At this point you are probably thinking that these priests are idiots, that surely they can understand the pattern by now that building a church plus staying in the church equals death. You would also think that after the previous events they would not believe that the solution would be to build a bigger church.... as this in no way addresses the problem at hand. You may think that surely he can't just keep rambling on like this and that he will wrap this up soon, after all we have figured out the pattern of the joke and we know where it is going anyway.
So one of the priests, suffering from long term memory loss, suggested that to honour their friends they should build a new monument to their faith. The others, after giving him concerned looks, figured they had come this far and, resigned to their fate, they agreed. The priests then spent the next five years ravaging the lands for resources. They felled forests, flattened hills and drove the critically endangered Pentapus to extinction to use their tears for cement (its like an octopus but it only has five arms... and only has five eyes.)
After a further five years of construction, they were finally able to stand back, crane their necks high, and admire their creation. This was a truly great achievement. This was now a cathedral, the sort of cathedral that architecture student congregate around. The sort of structure that everyone for miles around would refer to as "That massive f***ing monstrosity made of tears" and there would be weird rumors like "at night I've heard that you can hear the pentapusses crying from inside the walls". Whether these rumors were true or not, it was an impressive building. The size of an aeroplane hangar. It had an attached aeroplane hangar. It was the first cathedral built with a solid steel support structure and, for added protection, a moat and barbwire fence surrounded it.
The priests had been at the whole 'building monuments for the Superbook' for many years now and were getting old and tired. One of them suggested that they should take a trip to a local spa for a day of relaxation after this great achievement, "after all..." he said "page 69 of Superbook does proclaim in giant text, 'Thou shalt spa'". Five other priests, who probably had better survival instincts, agreed and the six of them took off. Six remained content in their reinforced structure, even taking shifts to keep watch for added security.
The six who left spent the day wallowing in mud, having cucumbers placed on various body parts and being generally as un-energetic as possible. They were also pleasantly surprised to find that their local infamy granted them free access to all the spas facilities. After they had left in their own time and the spa owner barred the doors shut behind them they headed back to their church.
"Have I still got cucumber in my eye!?" one of the six said as their home loomed on the horizon, "or has someone destroyed our church!?"
The priest was correct. As they approached and crossed the moat they found a towering pile of rubble. There was an eerie silence as they glared at the destruction, picturing their dead friends somewhere inside. The silence was only broken by the sound of the man in black speeding off over the horizon and the joyous cries of Pentapus souls being freed.
The sight of the man in black filled one of the priests with rage. He turned to the others and said "Hey I know what we need to do!" ... The others agreed before he had chance to say what it was.
The priests set about gathering more resources. After the ten years it took them to gather this, they were surrounded by a scorched barren earth. They had felled all the trees for twenty miles, flattened the earth, hunted all life to extinction (I mean all life, even worms... they took all the worms and used them to lure down all the birds. Then they trained the birds to help lift heavy objects for them. Then they ate the birds. Then they made a monument to remember the birds. Then they... didn't really put much effort into maintaining it and it ran into disrepair... the end), drained lakes and sucked clouds from the sky somehow.
It took a further ten years for the small group of ageing priests to complete their construction. For the sake of this story four of the priests died during a slave bird rebellion that was later crushed. Mainly because I can't think of many more advancing stages of church besides going into ghost churches or space churches, though those would be awesome.
Their creation could barely be called a church.Yes it was built in the shape of their deity symbol and inside were super mahogany (like regular mahogany only more awesome) pews and a diamond pulpit, but to all other purposes this was a fortress. The entire structure was titanium, standing thirty stories high. It was surrounded with laser fences, laser moats full of lasers, and atop the building were placed a cluster of guns which shot bullets which were also made of lasers. There were immense speaker systems built into the walls which issued threats as well as religious good will messages to all who approached. It was the sort of church that you wouldn't say anything about... because the church would know what you said and rain lasers upon you.
The doom of the man in black was built. But they needed bait. The two old priests drew straws to decide who would stay. The priest who left made it known that he would be leaving for a day on the beach.
He spent his day pretending to sunbathe, pretending to build sandcastles and pretending to dip his toes in the water. Until he heard a commotion in the distance. He raced back towards his fortress with a smile on his face, the sort of smile you would have if the person who has killed ninety eight of your closest ninety nine friends had been killed. When he could peer over the next horizon however, his smile vanished. All he could see in front of him was a smoking heap of titanium and misfiring lasers. As he peered through the smoke he could make out the man in black making his escape.
Something inside him had told him that this would happen and this time he was prepared. He knew there was no sand in his eyes... he had only been pretending to touch the sand. He ran behind a nearby bush and hopped aboard his Super Priesty Priest Scooter and gave chase.
Through the desolate lands he chased the man, gaining ever so slowly until after hours, to the priests surprise, the man had pulled over. The priest pulled up and approached the man, his face red with rage.
"HAVE YOU BEEN KNOCKING DOWN OUR CHURCHES!?" The priest roared.
And the man replied
"...... no....... "

I will list some this or that questions and just answer them.
RULES: - if multiple people get the most points, a randomizer will be used (there’s 20 questions, so 20 points can be earned) - the contest will end at 11:59 AM Eastern on June 6th - open to US residents only - link your wishlist if it’s not on your profile or listed somewhere
————————————————————————————-
You must pick one from each to get points (saying neither or not picking will yield no points in that question).

1. Locations - The Beach or The Forest?
2. Breakfast Foods - Pancakes or Waffles?
3. Flavors - Vanilla or Chocolate?
4. Home Types - A Mansion or A Cottage?
5. Precious Metals - Silver or Gold?
6. Snacks - Popcorn or Pretzels?
7. Foods - Onion Rings or Tater Tots?
8. Nature - The Sun or The Moon?
9. Horror Movie Killers - Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?
10. Activity - Swimming or Sunbathing?
11. Activity - Canoeing or Kayaking?
12. Music Eras - 80s Music or 90s Music?
13. Activities - Mini-Golf or Bowling?
14. Time Travel - Travel Back in Time or Travel into the Future?
15. Characters - Be a Hobbit in The Lord of the Rings or a Jedi in Star Wars?
16. Movies - Halloween or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre?
17. Movies - The Goonies or Stand By Me?
18. Movies - Clue or Knives Out?
19. Movies - Jurassic Park or Jaws?
20. Movies - Friday the 13th or A Nightmare on Elm Street?

I'd never been in fit or good shape, never able to wear a bikini comfortably. Until now and It's lovely, I even get to wear my most favourite cute beach wear. Ors what i wanted for so long become reality. And yet it's almost lost on me right now as I'm here on vacation alone after my marriage separated shortly before we were meant to leave 💔 we were gym buddies 😞 we had such a laugh. I will always be greatful and remember how he helped me to finally feel comfortable in my body through gym fitness and whole healthy foods and supported me through quitting sugar and snacking. Sorry for the shameless post. I just hoped for a petite boost to get through the last days of reflection on love, life, fitness, body image, health and loss

Apologies if this has been asked already. I scrolled for a bit but figured I might as well just ask.
Our roof is being redecked AND replaced in a few days. What can my husband and I do for the roofers? What sort of snacks, beverages can we get for them? We have a cooler and plan to get ice both days to fill it with and place beverages in there. But would love to leave out snacks or something as well. For reference, we’re in the Norfolk/Virginia Beach area (in case someone was curious if it was a cold or hot place 😅)
Thank you.
ETA: appreciate all the folks that took the time to seriously respond. Beer will be given at the end of the job. $19,000 job deserves sobriety from alcohol IMO.
Thanks again.

Hi all, I’m looking to do a day trip to Newport with my parents, who are getting a bit older and can’t really do a ton of walking. I’ve never been to Newport before. Any suggestions on good activities, and also where to park? We are going sometime around July 4th so I’m worried about parking and crowds. My mom does have a handicap parking tag for days she has a harder time walking. I’m open to any type of activity as long as it’s easy to get to and easy to walk around. Currently do not need wheelchair access but can’t do stairs. Suggestions of places to just sit and enjoy a nice view are great too!
Also, I would appreciate any suggestions for lunch spots or snacks!
Thanks
Edited to add: Does anyone happen to know- do the state parks have parking fees for out-of-state vehicles? I’ve only been able to find parking info for the state beaches. I’m not especially concerned about the cost, mostly just want to be prepared, particularly if it is something weird like a cash-only situation. I live in southeast CT, parents live elsewhere and are coming to visit me for a week.

adventureland park
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5. Culinary Delights: With all the adventure, you're bound to work up an appetite, and Adventureland Park has a diverse range of dining options to satisfy every palate. From classic amusement park treats like funnel cakes and cotton candy to full-service restaurants serving up delicious meals, there's something to please every taste bud. Indulge in a satisfying meal at "The Iowa Café" or grab a quick bite at the "Snack Shack" to refuel for more adventures.

Conclusion: Adventureland Park is a thrilling destination that promises an unforgettable experience for all who visit. With its exhilarating rides, family-friendly attractions, lively entertainment, and delicious dining options, it's no wonder that Adventureland Park has become a must-visit destination for adventure enthusiasts. So, pack your bags, gather your loved ones, and prepare for an adventure-filled journey at Adventureland Park, where excitement awaits around every corner.

I started renting this house a few weeks ago. It was a nice 2 bedroom 1 bathroom house with a 2 car garage and a sizable driveway. The grass was in very good health and the wooden fence was always painted a very bright and clean shade of white every few weeks. It was like a house from the 50s because it was. There was something charming about it, the wooden paneling, the porch with the backyard deck, the grill, the cozy little shack out back full of tools, and the lawnmower. I was allowed to rent this out for as long as I needed so I could write a report about a murder. One that happened in this very house in fact. Back in the 60s a couple lived here, they were crazy about each other. And about some of the neighbors as well. For over 2 decades they poisoned, stabbed, and shot various other families. It was never clear why they did it or what motives they had.
In the very end, it was chalked up as pure insanity, a pair of psychopaths married together. They had a son and daughter, but the grandparents had taken them out of that household after finding out about the first murder, they kept quiet. This house has been turned into a sort of museum and rental space over the past few years. It was closed off to the public for over 3 decades but recently opened back up for people to look at. Turns out that renting out and giving tours of a haunted house was profitable.
Oh, I forgot to mention that it was haunted by the souls of the couple who killed those families back in the day. This was something I was having a hard time documenting in the report I was writing. I mean, come on, a haunted house? What the hell is this, a horror novel? I was dead wrong about it though. It all started one night when this one song started playing on a phonograph in the living room. It was Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka. I can't get it out of my head. It played over and over every night.
The nights would go the same way over and over. I would go to bed at around 10 PM. After that, the house would fall into an odd silence. The lights came on in the living room and that song would start playing itself. The movement of footsteps could be heard as they creaked against the hardwood floors.
"Please, come out and join us. It's quite a fine night.", a female voice would call out.
"Come now, be our guest, and take a seat out here. We'll drink tea and listen to the radio.", a male voice would soon follow up with the woman's voice.
It was not safe to get up and check it out, despite their words of assurance. Doing so could bring unknown results. It may have been safe, but something in my body told me otherwise. I would stay in bed until 6 AM, that's the time everything would fade away and turn to normal. Their little dance and music would go on all night, but I would still be able to sleep. While dozing off it seems like the music would go silent despite still playing. I guess their only goal at first is to draw you out.
It's been a few days of this before things took a step up. I've been hearing...people? It's almost like a party happened during the night hours. Again I find that I cease to hear it once I fall asleep. I guess these little events are mere attempts at giving incentives for me to leave the room rather than to torture me. Although every so often there'll be a knock on the door asking me to come out. It only lasts a second before the person walks away. They're very polite about it though and they don't stick around, merely ask me and then vanish once they don't hear an answer in 5 seconds.
During the daytime, I've been logging this information into my reports. I feel like I'm going insane slightly, these can't be real, right? I must be breathing some sort of hallucinogenic gas being pumped in here. Got the vents checked out, nothing wrong with them. They did need to be cleaned though so at least I had an excuse to get them worked on without looking like a crazy person. I never find a trace of this couple during the day. No shoes, footprints, altered objects, nothing. Not a single thing moved out of place or touched. Hell, things seem slightly cleaner in the morning. It may be the fact that I try to keep things as they are though.
I spend my days walking around the neighborhood. The people living around here are mostly millennials. The ones who either inherited these houses and chose to rent them out or live in them instead of selling them. Or renting them to cut down certain parts of the mortgage. I drive into the city and head to a coffee shop I like for a few hours. I leech off the free wifi so I can get my things done. There's free wifi at the house, but it's a gamble on the speeds and connection. I also like starting my day off with coffee and going about my hours getting cake and a few sandwiches.
It's now week 3 and I'm almost done. I was given 4 weeks before the deadline to make a report on this house so the people I work for can get some info. They're not exactly well informed since most of the people have either died, "killed themselves", or simply walked out after a few days. The only reason I've survived this long is that I read every last bit of data I could from both historical records and the half-assed papers people put together before throwing their badges to the side and working for another newspaper. I'm barely getting anything interesting so far aside from the fever dream of a stay I'm getting from this place.
These days during the third week have been weird. I wake up at the same time only to hear humming. Musical humming, no particular song, just random notes. This is the wife humming while making some sort of breakfast. Her name is Rose, and her husband is Clark. Can't believe I've been referring to them as the husband and the wife all this time. It changes during these days but it ranges from bacon and eggs to cereal and orange juice with toast to a full pancake breakfast. They got bigger and bigger every day. On day one I stayed in my room until the humming stopped. Only lasted for about 15-20 minutes. After that, I would check the kitchen to find a freshly cooked breakfast. Rose wasn't anywhere in sight though.
I was hesitant to eat it at first since I wasn't sure what would happen. But I was hungry that morning and didn't feel like making the drive to the city so early in the morning. The food was good and I didn't feel poisoned or anything. I would set the dishes in the sink and take a shower. Not even 15 minutes later after getting out of the shower and getting dressed, the dishes were washed, dry, and sitting in the cupboards. I'm honestly not sure why people have been dying or quitting this trip. So far I've stayed out of their way and never really messed with anything. I feel like a guest here and act as one which is probably the key here. You can't live here, merely stay for a certain amount of time. I don't know how long that time frame is though.
Week 4, these last 7 days are my final chances to wrap this up before the deadline. I am nowhere closer to finding out how these past journalists died, why this couple did what they did, or anything like that. The best I'm going to do is probably pump out a short guide on how not to die here. This week was the hardest. The haunting extends all day. You see, the morning would start off as normal like last week. Waking up, hearing the humming, waiting for it to stop, eating breakfast, putting the dishes in the sink, etc. The real difference is that they are now visible and active all day and night.
Clark spends his day sitting on an armchair reading a newspaper, funny detail is that the date of the newspaper follows our date, Only the month and day, not the year. He is always dressed in a white dress shirt with the top button left undone. Simple ironed black dress pants with a leather belt neatly wrapped around them. Brown leather shoes, more like loafers actually. The kind of dress shoes you slip on. They were always shined and clean. His right leg is on the floor with his left leg stretched over his right. The newspaper covered his face. The only thing that could be seen from the other side was the occasional cigarette smoke puffing up.
The cigarette never had a scent though, phantom tobacco, funny. Rose would be sitting on the couch most of the time either knitting, reading a magazine, or watching the TV. It was a large black and white tv, the outside made of hardwood, the thick glass of the display, and the antenna sticking out of the top. Can't miss those two large dials on it. There was always something different on TV, one moment it was a cooking show, the news, and even a Western movie. The volume was always able to be heard but sort of faint as well. Kind of like a sort of background noise you barely notice after a while.
It was not a good idea to verbally or physically interact with them in any way. Not even looking at them was an option. I've never seen either of their face outside of photos because I'm always staring at my phone, or laptop, even intentionally staring at the floor. The carpet was very pleasant to look at. They never spoke during the day. Rose would sometimes clean the house. Sometimes dusting, vacuuming, and even washing the dishes. I lied, I've caught small glimpses of their faces from reflections. They are in their young age from the 60s, the prime of their life right before the major kill streak.
I can't even explain any of this. This house could slowly be turning into a self-contained instance of time. But that wouldn't make sense since the wifi here works, my money is up to date, and my tech can be charged. A few of the outlets were swapped out for more modern ones. Only the ones not already connected to appliances or the TV itself. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner would always appear on the table at different times of the day. Breakfast at 6 AM, lunch at noon, and dinner at 6 PM. I would always eat in silence and put the dishes in the sink. I've tried rinsing the dishes before at least but the water never touched them. I don't know how to explain it, but I would turn on the water and it would just phase through the dishware. I gave up after one day.
Well, this is the final day. I'll be scheduling this report to send itself in a few hours. I don't even want to manually do it since I'm rinsing my hands off this worthless paperwork once I leave. There was one thing I wanted to check out though. I'm going to continue this bit on my phone.
I always wanted to check out the basement. I forgot that it even existed this whole time. The door wasn't blocked or locked at all luckily. The door opened just fine, but the lightbulb turned on for about a second before blowing out. It didn't actually explode, but the light sort of just flashed and burned out like a flashbang. The steps are quite loud as they creak. I'm not sure what this smell is, it's like a mixture of gas and...rotten meat?
The door just closed itself, the only light I have down here is from my phone flashlight. There's some kind of red puddle leading to a room down here. I'm not liking it. I'm writing this live so my boss can read this. Yes, I know, hard to believe I'm actually being productive.
This...this is blood. There's a body in here. No wait, multiple bodies down here. I can see dozens or even hundreds of flies just covering these bodies. I think I recognize some of the badges around the necks. All of these bodies smell fresh. Is time frozen down here or something?
...shit. There are footsteps coming down here. I'm squeezed behind a broken-down fridge, perhaps Clark will just give up his search in a few minutes. My 911 alert just failed. This one message will probably be the last thing that'll automatically upload. I think I just made a horrible mistake. I wasn't supposed to come down here. If you're reading this, please call for hel---
*Connection lost*
*Report upload incoming*
I recently got to rent out a home from the 60s. This house is famous because of a couple that used to live here from the 60s to the 80s. They were known for killing people and families during this time period before finally being caught by the police. These were the things I've learned during my stay in this house:
- During the first week there will be dancing. From 10 PM to 6 AM there will be activity in the living room. The couple will appear out there and dance to a song called Put Your Head On My Shoulder along with a few others.
- They will assure you that it's fine to come out and join them. Don't do it. I've never attempted so I don't know if anything happens, but trust your gut.
- During week 2 they will start hosting a "party". The sound of many people will come from the living room as if people have come over for the evening. Every few hours the door will knock as someone on the other end will invite you to join everyone.
- During week 3 the haunting will break into the day. During the morning the wife will be in the kitchen making breakfast, do not leave your room until she is done. You can use the bathroom, just don't look or enter the kitchen. You will hear her humming for about 20 minutes. Once it stops, you can go about your day. The food is perfectly fine to eat and is actually encouraged. Make sure you put your dishes in the sink.
- During week 4, if you've survived this long, they will roam the house 24/7. Do not make eye contact with either of them. They'll mainly stay in the living room. The husband sitting on the armchair reading a newspaper and the wife reading a magazine or knitting. Occasionally she'll clean the house. If you are going to be in the living room, keep your eyes low and do not verbally interact with them.
- If you do...I'm not sure. There have been reports of them killing people during this time. Acting hostile at them or trying to kill them will not end well. Many have rented this place out and almost all of them have died. Some were filled with stab wounds, some were in the tub, drowned, and others were framed as if it were suicide. You may wonder why the government hasn't merely torn the house down. I'm not sure. It seems like the money they make from this place keeps it running longer.
- They will not force themselves into the room during the night. Unless you interact with them, they will not attack or come your way. Any food or snacks prepared is fully safe and encouraged to consume. Make sure you set dishes and silverware in the sink. They'll be cleaned when you're not working. Staying outside of the house is your best chance to live. Follow these rules.

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”

I (45M) had some time off over Memorial Day Weekend, so I decided to pop over to Barcelona from my home in Italy for some solo sight-seeing and Spanish food indulgence. I'm a fan of hostels on my trips for the social aspect and I enjoy meeting other travelers from around the world and hearing their stories, so for this trip I decided to try something new and take it up a notch by booking an unabashed "party" hostel - Kabul Party Hostel near La Rambla.
Friday
Flight got in at 1030 in the morning. I bought an AeroBus round-trip ticket from the airport to the city center (Placa Catalunya) for $12. I'm a big pre-planner, so I had an itinerary made in advance of places to see on a little self-guided walking tour.

• Museu d 'Història de la Ciutat (City History Museum): I enjoyed this museum, especially the Roman city ruins on the lower level.
  
• Roman Columns: These are close to the museum, hidden in a back alley.
  
• Murals, statues and architecture - oh my!: So much interesting things to see. I wandered around for a few hours just taking it all in.
  
• La Boqueria: Big market. Sooo much food!
  
• Check into Hostel: It was about 4 pm at this point, so I checked in, dropped off my backpack and went to the hostel bar for a cold beer - only to find the hostel bar didn't open until 6 pm! There was a vending machine that sold cans of beer, so I took one up to the rooftop terrace - only to find it empty of people. I thought this was supposed to be a party hostel?? Where was everyone?
  

Around 6 pm people started arriving at the hostel bar or upstairs on the terrace, and I met a lot of other solo travelers. We played pool, foosball, etc. and the vibe was good. At 8 they had their nightly hostel activity, which was karaoke (I just watched). At 11 they did a pub crawl, but I went to bed because...I'm old.
Saturday
The hostel actually provided a breakfast buffet, and I practically had it all to myself at 8 am because everyone was still asleep. The only others were people who'd been out all night and this was a late night snack for them.

• Sagrada Família: I'd pre-booked a 9:30 entrance ticket thinking I'd beat the crowds, but it was still pretty crowded. I imagine later in the day would be a madhouse. I did the Passion Tower also.
  
• Park Guell: Google maps told me it was only a 2km walk, and the weather was really nice so I went on foot. Turns out it was all uphill! The park was neat, but super crowded.
  
• The Beach!: I took a taxi back from the park to the hostel and changed for the beach. It was around noon at this point, but a lot of the people in my 22-bed room were still sleeping. It was weird tip toeing around mid-day in the room. On the way to Barceloneta Beach I stopped for lunch at Can Paixano, a standing-only tapas bar. It was amazing. I ate a ton of different types of tapas and made friends with a Canadian couple that stood near me. Between the 3 of us, we had 3 full bottles of Cava, which is a Spanish sparkling wine.
  

At the beach, I set up my towel next to a family with kids, and asked them to watch my things when I went in the water. I was there most of the afternoon and really enjoyed it, but it was very crowded and people were always walking by trying to sell stuff (I did buy a few mojitos, lol). The weather was perfect (83F/28C).
That night at the hostel I befriended a solo traveler who was in his late 20's and told me he felt "old" at this particular hostel. The clientele at Kabul definitely skewed young, like 18-21 young. It was awkward hearing the stories of the American kids amazed that they could gamble at the Barcelona Casino, or buy sangria at a bar without being carded. But outside the generational differences, they were laid back and fun to hang out with.
Sunday
I slept in a little, then after breakfast I took the cable car up Montjuïc. It had some nice views. The guy I met the night before texted and asked me to meet him at Casa Battlo, so I headed over that way.
He had hooked up with a girl staying at the hostel the night before, and now was stuck escorting her and her friend around the city. They'd just paid $35 to go inside Casa Battlo, and he needed a wingman. I was content waiting outside (The Gaudi tourist stops are overpriced imho).
I spent the next few hours watching this new couple who'd just met and drunkenly hooked up only the night before try to play "couple" - holding hands etc. but it was painful to watch them try their best to get along sober when it clearly would've been best to leave it as a one night stand. I went back to the hostel and took a nap, and later that night the four of us went out for dinner and walked around the beachfront area. All this time I wasn't a very good double date for the other girl because: 1. I have a girlfriend back home 2. I was all-too-aware I had two decades on this girl, and any simple niceties or innocent flirting could easily be misconstrued as me being a creepy old man. Maybe that was just in my head, but those are legitimate feelings at my age. I went to bed around Midnight as they left to go clubbing.
Monday
Checkout was 11, but my flight wasn't until 6 pm, so I spent my final day souvenir shopping, exploring the back alleys of the gothic quarter alone, and sitting on a bench on La Rambla listening to street performers play Spanish music. It was a nice relaxing day. Around 2 I got a text from my new friend that he'd just woken up and wanted me to come back to the hostel to hang out with him and the girls. I declined.
Final Thoughts
Would I stay at Kabul Party Hostel again? No, but I'm glad I went and held my own with the young people. I knew I'd be out of place, but it ended up being fun. I played foosball, pool, beer pong and watched the Barcelona soccer match on tv while sharing multiple pitchers of sangria with interesting young people from all over the world.
I loved Barcelona and was lucky to have great weather while there. The food was really good and not too expensive. I didn't get pickpocketed despite all the warnings. I was able to navigate public transportation on my own, and I learned some new Catalan phrases.
When my plane touched down at Venice Airport that night, my phone pinged with several missed texts. My hostel friend had written to say the other girl was asking about me and told him she would've hooked up if only I'd tried harder. I assumed they were a few drinks deep at the hostel bar by that point. Maybe it was the sangria talking, but hearing she'd liked me felt good, and was the perfect end to my solo trip to Barcelona.

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Hey guys! Hope everyone is doing okay. I wanted to see if there is anyone out there who wants to cuddle for the first time. It is something I really need right now because my Father passed away recently and it has been hard being alone through it all. I would like to be held and possibly cry a little. I know this is a heavy post than expected, but I thought I'd give it a shot.
Physically I'm white ,165lbs, with long brown hair and hazel eyes, I have chubby cheeks with a dimple on one side.
Non-physically: I love being outdoors and walking on trails and finding a new park I can take my dog on. I have a kayak and love going to the beach. And I just bought my first cycling bike and I am so excited to start training with it!
I enjoy Indian food, cinnamon rolls (any kind of pastry) and odd flavor combinations, so give me your oddest pair lol.
It would be great to meet someone who is close to the NY metro area (NYC, westchester County and stamford/Greenwich CT)
Dm your favorite snack and a pic of yourself and see if we click!
Toodaloo

Hey guys! Hope everyone is doing okay. I wanted to see if there is anyone out there who wants to cuddle for the first time. It is something I really need right now because my Father passed away recently and it has been hard being alone through it all. I would like to be held and possibly cry a little. I know this is a heavy post than expected, but I thought I'd give it a shot.
Physically I'm white ,165lbs, with long brown hair and hazel eyes, I have chubby cheeks with a dimple on one side.
Non-physically: I love being outdoors and walking on trails and finding a new park I can take my dog on. I have a kayak and love going to the beach. And I just bought my first cycling bike and I am so excited to start training with it!
I enjoy Indian food, cinnamon rolls (any kind of pastry) and odd flavor combinations, so give me your oddest pair lol.
It would be great to meet someone who is close to the NY metro area (NYC, westchester County and stamford/Greenwich CT)
Dm your favorite snack and a pic of yourself and see if we click!
Toodaloo

Hey guys! Hope everyone is doing okay. I wanted to see if there is anyone out there who wants to cuddle for the first time. It is something I really need right now because my Father passed away recently and it has been hard being alone through it all. I would like to be held and possibly cry a little. I know this is a heavy post than expected, but I thought I'd give it a shot.
Physically I'm 28 white ,165lbs, with long brown hair and hazel eyes, I have chubby cheeks with a dimple on one side.
Non-physically: I love being outdoors and walking on trails and finding a new park I can take my dog on. I have a kayak and love going to the beach. And I just bought my first cycling bike and I am so excited to start training with it!
I enjoy Indian food, cinnamon rolls (any kind of pastry) and odd flavor combinations, so give me your oddest pair lol.
It would be great to meet someone who is close to the NY metro area (NYC, westchester County and stamford/Greenwich CT)
Dm your favorite snack and a pic of yourself and see if we click!
Toodaloo