But I Feel Fine...
There's a portion of road in the town I live in that travels right through the heart of what I like to refer to as 'Mayberry RFD'... The speed limit through this particular area is a painstaking crawl of 25 mph and it's strictly enforced. Along this stretch of road are some of the most beautiful Victorian Manor homes I've ever seen, which I guess alleviates some of the hassle of the slow drive.
Along the route to my home I pass a grand old Funeral Home, it's housed in the largest Victorian of them all. As I passed the home today, (crawling along behind a county truck who took the 25 mph speed limit presumably so much to heart, the driver decided not to top 20) I noticed 3 men standing in front of the funeral home in their standard issue dark suits affixed with name badges. They were quite obviously preparing for the next gathering of grieving family and friends. Side note here, I don't have much use for the funeral industry. Books I've read lead me to believe the majority prey on the emotions of their clients for profit. As for me, freeze dry my body, break it into pieces and use it to fertilize a tree or something... On second thought I've never been very good with plants, so just incinerate me and let the ashes fall where they may... I'll be dead, trust me, I won't care.
So back to the purpose of this post... As I'm crawling along in my car one of the funeral directors makes eye contact with me (YES, I was going THAT slow!)... It was the creepiest look EVER and it didn't help matters any that I was returning home from a doctor's appointment. I'd swear the only way to interpret the look this man, in his black suit and badge gave me was, "You're next!" or "See you soon!" or "I've got my eye on you!" or "Stop on in, I've got a sweet deal for you on the 'Meet Your Maker' package." The latter proposed in a very dour, ominous, prepare to meet your doom kind of way.... I wanted to shout out, "No REALLY, I feel FINE!"
Along the route to my home I pass a grand old Funeral Home, it's housed in the largest Victorian of them all. As I passed the home today, (crawling along behind a county truck who took the 25 mph speed limit presumably so much to heart, the driver decided not to top 20) I noticed 3 men standing in front of the funeral home in their standard issue dark suits affixed with name badges. They were quite obviously preparing for the next gathering of grieving family and friends. Side note here, I don't have much use for the funeral industry. Books I've read lead me to believe the majority prey on the emotions of their clients for profit. As for me, freeze dry my body, break it into pieces and use it to fertilize a tree or something... On second thought I've never been very good with plants, so just incinerate me and let the ashes fall where they may... I'll be dead, trust me, I won't care.
So back to the purpose of this post... As I'm crawling along in my car one of the funeral directors makes eye contact with me (YES, I was going THAT slow!)... It was the creepiest look EVER and it didn't help matters any that I was returning home from a doctor's appointment. I'd swear the only way to interpret the look this man, in his black suit and badge gave me was, "You're next!" or "See you soon!" or "I've got my eye on you!" or "Stop on in, I've got a sweet deal for you on the 'Meet Your Maker' package." The latter proposed in a very dour, ominous, prepare to meet your doom kind of way.... I wanted to shout out, "No REALLY, I feel FINE!"
Labels: Depressing, For Fun, Health
posted by EmBee at 10:30 AM
7 Comments:
either that or constant 'interaction ' with corpses have dulled his flirting skills.
"say, has anyone ever told you you'd look great embalmed!"
You know, I never thought of that... He was like in his 60's or something but then I guess you're never too old to flirt.
That's funny--don't worry, we won't let them take you!
Hooray, Christy is back!
Aren't you sweet! :)
YIKES! LOL I always get creeped out by funeral home directors..I mean seriously..who CHOSES to do that job? and better still...WHY? I mean..I can see the embalmer guy or coroner or whatever from a scientific standpoint it would be an interesting job, but the guy who CHOSES to pretend to care about people he's never met so he can sell them a box and a piece of dirt in a corner lot? I don't get it...
Stacie
I feel the same way if a hearse crosses my path during the day.
I told my husband he can have me cremated and just dump the ashes wherever, even use them for fertilizer.
Whatever.
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