Few things in life can compare with sitting down at the end of the day to a nice, juicy steak.
Whether it’s your standard sirloin, or the all-out slow-cooked ribeye (keep that horseradish handy unless you’re a purist,) nothing beats a good steak made right at a genuine excellent steakhouse.
Some steakhouses are apparently so good that even after death people will come back.
Updated 2/10/2020 – Pinnacle Peak Steakhouse is located in Colton, California, and sports a great menu, a good atmosphere, and the kind of beers that will make your mouth water no matter where you’re from.
It also has a history of being haunted.
Paranormal Activity At Pinnacle Peak Steakhouse
Just before you get to the entrance to the ladies’ room, you might notice the print of a person’s hand on the wall.
At first glance, you might be led to think that Pinnacle Peak perhaps doesn’t keep their restaurant very clean, but you’d be wrong.
The hand print, at least according to some people, including a legitimate California psychic, belongs to a woman who has been dead for over forty years.
“We used to try to wash it off,” some of the employees say, “but it just kept coming back.
So eventually we just stopped and let it be.”
It seems that this particular satisfied customer wishes to leave an indelible sign that she has been there, and refuses to let that sign be washed away.
“We kind of started seeing it as a sign that we must still be doing things right, the way we were back in the seventies when Laurie was still alive,” says a man who used to work in the back of this steakhouse location long ago.
According to him, Laurie is the name of the now-deceased patron whose hand graces the wall just before the women’s restroom in the restaurant.
“Of course, that was a lot easier to do back in the days when it didn’t move.”
When asked to clarify, this former waiter says, “Well, I ain’t the only one that seen it move, first of all, so make sure you write that down.”
I assure him that I will.
Today on The Steakhouse Menu: Ribeye With a Side of Terror
“Good. Well, you see, back around ’90 or so, the hand print – Laurie’s hand print – started to move sometimes when people would walk by.
“At first it would just sort of flex its fingers.
But I’m given to understand that today, if you walk by close enough, it’ll reach right out and grab you by the shoulder.
Freaky as hell, if you ask me.”
I ask if anyone was ever hurt by the hand.
He stares at the table for a long moment.
“Not that I know of,” he says.
“But I have to tell you, I’ve wondered for a very long time whatever happened to her.
“To Laurie, I mean.
I remember her being very sweet but very quiet.
“And I’ve wondered a lot of times if maybe she’s reaching out – so to speak – and trying to tell people something.
“Like that she was murdered, or something like that, you know?”
I ask him if he ever goes to the Pinnacle Peak Steakhouse any more, and he shakes his head.
“Naw,” he says.
“I think I seen that thing move one too many times.
I keep fearing I’ll wake up, and it’ll be on my wall this time.”