By the spring of 1991, I'd pretty much gotten used to the fact that 1444 Broadway had some problems, to put it mildly...noises, lights, objects being moved or acting strangely were everyday things by then, and were generally more of a nuisance than a terror. The manifestations in the bathroom were just such.
1444 had two bathrooms upstairs, to be shared by all the tenants. They were right next to each other on the long hall, on your right as you headed to the rear exit. I generally used the one closest to my apartment, and really didn't notice anything odd until early April, when the temperature in the room remained cold, no matter what the heat was set on. A thermometer taken into the room would show normal room temperature.
The water in the toilet was always icy-cold, so much so that it was uncomfortable to use. Also, it would flush by itself several times a day. The tub and sink could be heard to turn on and run, although they'd be bone-dry upon inspection.
Several times, the bathroom door would be heard to slam shut, only to be found standing wide open when checked. Once, a loud thump was heard in the room, but nothing was out of place.
One weekend when I had my usual guests, anyone using the bathroom would hear their name called in a voice that sounded like someone else in the group. I heard Dave, Dave heard Buddi, Buddi heard Lisa, and Lisa heard me. The people in the living room heard nothing.
One morning, about 9:30, I was getting ready to leave for the day. I'd taken a bath, brushed my teeth, dressed, and was preparing to shave when I saw a misty form behind me, reflected in the mirror. It was shorter than me, with blurry features, and seemed to glide into the room. I turned to face it, but there was nothing there. Deciding I didn't need a shave that bad, I turned, and walked out of the room.
As I exited, I heard the toilet flush.