Yes, you read the header right. There is no going back now.
For those who may not have heard of the concept, a ghost or phantom car is a supposed haunted vehicle. The stories often describe cars that operate with no visible driver at the wheel or which perform seeming impossible task.
Probably the most famous example of this comes from this video:
And a second would from this video here:
I'd heard of the concept, but had brushed it off as just "one of those things." My skeptical mind said that both videos could be easily explained away if we had video from a different advantage point. Just like a magician playing his tricks, perhaps the angle of view fooled the onlookers into seeing what they wanted to believe.
That was my view point on this topic until earlier this year. Until I saw my own version of a ghost car. Until I saw IT.
Driving down 51st avenue, I was mindlessly flicking through the FM radio stations as I waited at a stop light. I was in the far left lane when an older looking, pale yellow, hatchback truck pulled up on my right and stopped a car length ahead of me. (I'm not much of a vehicle guru, so I can't really say what make, model or year this thing was.)
Now that doesn't seem like anything that would catch anyone's attention and it wasn't. What commanded your eyes was the hood ornament. Standing about twelve inches high, a black robed, statue of death holding his scythe was perched on the very nose of the hood. Of course, being the wanton dark soul that I am, that was the first thing that caught my eye. However as my gaze traveled over the vehicle, I saw small pock marks covering the pale paint job. Leaning over my cars center console, I squinted to see just what they were.
Small clippings from magazines of naked women had been modge podged all over this frickin' truck as if it were some kind of pornographic scrapbook on wheels. And no, they were not scantily clad, Victoria Secrets gals. Everything was on display, shall we say.
My jaw hit the floor and, I'm sorry to say, my first reaction was, "I need to get a picture of this or no one is going to believe me!"
Pics or it didn't happen folks.
Ignoring my "absolutely no touching the cell phone when you are in the car, even if stopped at a red light" rule, I frantically dug out my Samsung. (Because iPhone = iCrap.) Just my luck though, right as I got the camera ap up and running, the light turned green and what I have now coined as "The Porn Deathmobile of Laveen" speed away.
All that my camera caught was a blurry photo of cars that day. In hindsight, this must be what Bigfoot enthusiast feel. . .
I told everyone about my encounter, but I don't think anyone believed me — or worse didn't care. But I had seen it and one day, I vowed, I would prove its existence to the world! I was Ahab and I'd found my White Whale! I had found my Man Bear Pig!
But time passed and I didn't see it again. I began to wonder if it had been a visiting Porn Deathmobile from some far off land. I hadn't seen the license plate after all. What if such a road oddity didn't belong to Arizona at all?
That all changed on my way down Baseline road with my friend Kira as we headed to the Tucson Book Festival this year. We were passing one of the plant nurseries and I was in the passenger seat when I spied IT through the young, potted, palm trees. I yelled and, in hindsight, probably scared Kira half to death and potentially might have gotten us into an accident buuuuuuuuut. . . I saw it!
Unfortunately, we were unable to turn around due to construction, so I couldn't show her I wasn't a raving loon over this thing. It was real though and I'd seen it twice now — in Laveen!
So my hunt continues for this perverted, road side, atrocity.
Washington and Oregon, you might have Bigfoot.
New Jersey you might have your Devil.
New York you have Champ.
But here in Arizona we have death, riding his porn covered pussy wagon. Beat that.