Our relationship defies the petty bourgeois expectations of polite society

Carolyn Muir, a young widow renting Gull Cottage in the town of Schooner Bay, Maine and her lover, a long-dead sea captain named Daniel Gregg, have announced that they are currently in an “open and swinging” relationship.

“It’s true” said Mrs. Muir on her Facebook page.

I’m dating a ghost and I couldn’t be happier.  For the first time in my life I know what pleasure is.  Unbridled pleasure without guilt.  The Captain knows how to touch me like no man alive.  Literally no man alive.  When he makes love to me he is inside me.  I mean really inside of me.  Not being bound by the flesh, not being alive, he can move inside all of me.  He’s freed my mind and my body to explore passion I never knew existed.  

Despite Mrs. Muir’s protestation of happiness many in Schooner Bay are distressed by the relationship.

“I think it’s all a tax dodge” said the town’s mayor.

She’s telling me she’s married to a ghost that no one else can see and wants her taxes reassessed because of this.  You can imagine my skepticism.  She is trying to avoid paying her fair share of taxes.  This town needs revenue for after school programs.  She is not being economically patriotic!

Her sister worries that Mrs. Muir’s relationship with the captain will block entry to the town’s more fashionable social circles.

This is a small town.  A conservative, traditional small town.  People talk.  They are calling her “The Ghost Sexer.”  How am I supposed to live in this town now?  I have a business and she’s made the family name a joke.  I see people pointing at me and laughing. She’s got a reputation now.  It’s not her first time you know.

Indeed Muir had a brief relationship with dead rock legend Jimmy Hendrix.

“I had to leave him” she told a friend.

When he wasn’t asking me to fellate him he was throwing up on me.  Ever smell ghost vomit? Not pleasant.  One time I woke up and found him using his guitar neck to sodomize himself.  He kept yelling “You know you are a little heart breaker, foxy yeah, and you know you are a sweet little love maker foxy.”  I mean I should have been turned on but a girl likes sweet talk.

Another time she was briefly haunted by Pete Best.

When we made love he kept screaming, “Say my name! Say I’m better than Ringo!” What? What do you mean he’s not even dead?  Oh gross.

Despite all this Mrs. Muir remains defiant.

People are jealous of my relationship with the Captain because it defies the petty, bourgeois expectations of polite society.  Well screw them.  

As for the dead captain, he doesn’t see what the fuss is all about.

“I’ve been sleeping with widows for years.  Yeah, I’m a ghost gigolo.  Dead man’s got to make a living you know.”

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