In 2004, I visited Tombstone, Arizona, with three friends, two of whom were from the British RAF stationed in Tucson. It was my first trip there as well.
After a show and some period-costume photos, we ate at the Long Horn Restaurant. After the meal, the other woman in our group and I went to the restroom. There were two separate single-occupancy rooms. I took the one on the left. Inside, a strange sign on the wall warned, "If you don't wash your hands you can die!" and described a girl who died from a disease. I washed my hands, but was overwhelmed by a feeling of being watched and sudden claustrophobia—unusual for me, as I only feel that way in large crowds. I dismissed it due to the small, cramped space, rejoined my friends, and we drove back to Tucson.
The next day, returning home from work alone, I found my kitchen cabinets and dishwasher open. This was odd, as my roommate was away and only my dogs were home. All night, the dogs barked toward the kitchen but refused to enter it, which was very weird since their food and water were kept there.
This pattern continued for a week: dogs barking near the kitchen, and cabinets/dishwasher found open whenever I returned home. Later, my RAF friends spoke with colleagues who had also visited Tombstone after hearing how "cool" it was. They ate at the same restaurant and asked the waitress about its history and ghost legends. She told them Morgan Earp had been shot on the building's roof and that the women's restroom was haunted—but only the left stall. I never learned the ghost's full story, but I'm fairly certain it followed me home, lingered for a while, and made its presence known in my kitchen.
A few weeks after the trip, I moved out of that apartment, so I'm not sure what happened to the ghost.
Maybe it went back home.