We Summoned a Spirit and It Wouldn’t Stop Oversharing...

No one plans to summon a ghost. You don’t put it on the calendar. You don’t bring snacks for it. It just… happens. Like when someone says, “Can I be honest?” and you immediately regret staying.

It was late. The kind of night where everyone insists they’re not tired, but everyone is tired. Someone produced a Ouija board “as a joke.” Which is how all bad decisions are introduced.

The candle was lit. The planchette was placed. We sat around a picnic table like adults who had survived several decades at summer camp, and somehow learned nothing.

“Is anyone there?” someone asked. The planchette moved instantly. No buildup. No hesitation. Like a kid who had been holding their hand up for years, waiting to be picked on.

"OKAY WOW... FINALLY."

"DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK THAT?"

We froze. This was not a whisper from the beyond. This was not a moan of eternal suffering. This was… a Valley Girl?? From 1988?

"UM... HI."

"JUST SO YOU KNOW, I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A CONVERSATION, AND NOW I’M HERE."

"SO LET’S MAKE THIS WORTH IT. ARE YOU GUYS LIKE, AN OIL PAINTING? HELLO?"

She told us her name without being prompted.

"I’M TIFFANY… IT’S TIFFANY WITH A ‘Y.’"

"BECAUSE I’M NOT A BARBARIAN, LET’S BE HONEST… "

She died in 1988. She reminded us of this frequently.

"IT WAS A BETTER TIME."

"PEOPLE HAD HOPES... AND DREAMS!"

"AND HAIR HELD ITS SHAPE FOR DAYS. I LOVE YOU AQUANET!"

Someone asked how she died. The planchette slowed.

"OKAY. FIRST OF ALL… UM… RUDE!"

"SECOND, IT WAS A JET SKI / HAIRSPRAY / ENGINE SPARK SITUATION, AND I DON’T WANT TO RELIVE IT."

"Fair. Fair enough,"… someone said . We then tried the classic questions.

“Do you have a message for the living?”

"OH TOTALLY!"

"YOU’RE ALL WAY TOO SERIOUS, AND IT’S MAKING YOU SO NOT COOL."

One of us quietly removed a finger from the planchette.

"WOW... DID SOMEONE JUST CHECK OUT? I CAN FEEL THAT YA KNOW..."

She asked what year it was and we told her. There was a long pause.

"WHY DOES EVERYTHING SOUND WORSE NOW?"

She asked what happened to magazines. We mentioned Reader’s Digest, mostly out of panic.

"READER’S DIGEST?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"I DIED THINKING I’D AT LEAST GET SEVENTEEN OR TIGER BEAT OPTION!"

She was deeply offended.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO EXIST ETERNALLY WITHOUT KNOWING WHO’S DATING WHO?"

She asked if Rob Lowe was “still cute.” No one knew how to answer.

"SILENCE IS SERIOUSLY SUSPICIOUS, DUDES."

She asked about music. We mentioned iTunes and Spotify playlists.

"OKAY BUT WHERE’S THE COMMITMENT?"

"WHERE’S THE MIX TAPE THAT TOOK YOU FOUR HOURS AND ONE BAD SONG RUINED EVERYTHING?"

She described hers.

"SIDE A: BANANARAMA, MADONNA, A LITTLE CYNDI LAUPER BECAUSE I’M DEEP."

"SIDE B: PRINCE AND NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK, BUT ONLY JORDAN SONGS."

She asked if anyone still knew how to rewind a cassette tape using a pencil. We told her no.

"WOW... SO YOU JUST… SKIP FEELINGS NOW?"

She began commenting on us individually.

"YOU... WHY DO YOU SIT LIKE YOU’RE APOLOGIZING FOR EXISTING?"

"YOU... THAT LAUGH IS A DEFENSE MECHANISM."

"AND YOU… OH MY GOD… YOU STILL HAVE A JUNK DRAWER. SO ICONIC. KINDA PATHETIC, BUT STILL ICONIC!"

She knew about the food in our freezers from two Thanksgivings ago. That will apparently never change.

"THAT’S BEEN IN THERE WAY TOO LONG. EVEN FOR ME… AND I’M DEAD."

Someone asked about the afterlife. The candle flickered. This felt important.

"IT’S LIKE A WAITING ROOM. BUT THE MAGAZINES ARE ALL OLD, AND SOMEONE ALWAYS SAYS, ‘I JUST HAVE ONE QUESTION,’ AND THEN THEY DON’T."

She said she missed strip malls. “Like seriously”. (her words)

"YOU COULD HANG OUT. YOU COULD PRETEND YOU WERE GOING TO BUY SOMETHING. IT WAS A SYSTEM."

She said she did not miss answering machines.

"UNLESS IT WAS YOUR CRUSH. THEN IT WAS EVERYTHING. YOU NEED THE MOMENT!"

Someone asked if she had regrets. The planchette slowed almost to a crawl.

"YEAH... I CARED TOO MUCH ABOUT PEOPLE WHO NEVER MADE ME A MIX TAPE."

The silence from us was deafening.

"ALSO, I SHOULD’VE KEPT THAT DENIM JACKET. I REALLY LOVE THAT THING!"

We tried to end the session. “Goodbye, Tiffany.”

"WAIT - WAIT - WAIT - CAN I JUST SAY… YOU GUYS ARE DOING FINE. BUT YOU’RE OVERTHINKING IT. AND YOU NEED BETTER HAIR."

She warned us not to trust anyone named Trevor. She said productivity apps were “A SCAM WITH CHARTS.”

She asked if she would have liked oat milk. We all said no… Not even in the afterlife.

Then the candle went out. The planchette stopped. The night returned to normal.

No haunting. No curse. Just the unsettling realization that even a ghost from 1988 thinks we all need to relax. We packed up the Ouija board. No one spoke on the ride home. Then, finally, someone said it:

“Honestly… she was exhausting… but not wrong, and seriously cool!”