Yesterday we stopped for lunch at a pub located in a former train depot in an old Connecticut mill town. We were the only patrons besides a drunk guy at the bar. As is my wont, I asked the server: “So, is this place haunted?” She said it was but she didn’t have much information about the ghost because she was new and this was only her second shift. I asked if it would be okay if we investigated the matter for ourselves. “Feel free,” she said. “It’s around here somewhere.” And so it was. The ghost, as it proved, was far less disturbing than the feculent restrooms.