To be clear, ghosts exist. Evidence piles up in all the corners of the Earth. You must accept they are real.
Therefore, I am moving the debate forward. Do not worry about if ghosts are real. Think about how to treat them.
The big issue is fear. Ghosts have received nothing but anger and suspicion for hundreds of years. The physical form is alien to them now, so this abuse will bring out the worst. You have to tease them back to serenity. Make sure they feel welcome.
In our pub, we leave a pint and a bowl of nuts on the table near the fireplace. The correct sigil is already scoured into the wood. When they first appear, we walk away, and let them grow more solid. Even then, they can still freak people out. Once we had a customer scream at a translucent policeman.
By the next morning, a new person will sit at the table. Perhaps they will be wearing a military uniform from a war long since concluded. Maybe they have a corset, or a shawl covering their eyes.
It is still remarkable, no matter how many times you see them appear. You need to be calm. Clean your glassware, and do not ask them about the past. Ignore the way they eat their food. Accept you will never get rid of the smell of tobacco smoke.
This is part of running a pub. This is curation. You must look after the ghosts like you look after the ancient beams of wood in the ceiling.
We have a real pride in our establishment. To be frank, I care more about the ghosts than some of the patrons. The regulars are fine with them. But it is the haphazard drunks that are the problem. The groups of lads.
They walk over, and stare right through the ghosts. Try and interrogate the spirits for details of their life. Someone even waved his hands through a pale parson's sternum. Unbelievable.
Most landlords get involved at this stage. This is the more compassionate decision. Not me. I let the ghosts do their work.
As I said, these are no longer physical beings. We could be the enemy. Those jaws can widen to an unbelievable angle. Their eyes pop, and show no mercy.
The regulars do not mind the screams. We clean up the blood, refill the pint, and pour the nuts. Our next guest will be along soon enough.
Line: I let the ghosts do their work.
