A childhood friend, who referred to herself as “Big Joyce” because she was 5’10” and large-boned, invited me to spend the day at Rye Beach with her and her parents. I always loved amusement parks and jumped at the chance to go with my mother’s permission. The park was huge but the lines for the bathroom were long. This was during the late ‘50s when accommodations for people were not at the scale they are today.
At some point we both had to go to the bathroom but decided not to wait in line, we’d be leaving for home soon, anyway, and even though it was an hour’s drive from the park back to our town, we figured we’d find a gas station on the way rather than stand on line for another half hour.
As we were about to leave the park Joyce spotted this walk-through Haunted House. It definitely looked inviting, or I should say beckoning, and we were intrigued. I was a little nervous about going in because I had a healthy fear of haunted houses, and I truly needed to sit down as my bladder was bursting.
I was all for getting in the car and driving to a gas station and skipping the Haunted House, although it did pique my curiosity. Joyce insisted we go inside. Not sure I should go in, I decided to wait outside and let her go in first to get an idea of whether or not it was worth the trouble.
I waited for a few minutes but she did not come out, nor was there an answer when I called out to her. I stepped a little closer to the entrance and called to her again…nothing. Maybe it was much fun that she decided to keep walking all the way through and would be coming out of the exit soon. I waited and watched the exit but still no sign of her.
I thought maybe I should move in a little closer to the entrance to peek inside, but as I was almost in the doorway, suddenly from out of the dark this huge figure comes running toward me, arms waving, screaming like a Banshee …all I could see was something that looked like an apparition and I peed myself right there on the spot.
It was Big Joyce flailing her arms and running out of the haunted house because she saw something that scared her. Too late for me, by the time I realized it was her, I was already dripping wet from my crotch down! We never did go inside the haunted house that day because whatever she saw scared the living daylights out of her and she scared the pee out of me.
It was an uncomfortable walk to her parent’s car and without a change of clothes an even-more uncomfortable ride home.
She never did tell me what she saw that scared her so badly, but it was a Haunted House after all!