Thursday, July 15, 2010
Post Thirty: (Woah Thirty!) Ghost World vs Water Pressure
I did something bad. I feel awful. I am sorry.
I told a dead man today that I hated him. It was a simple quiet statement between me and him. The words, they crept out of my mouth slowly and my lips felt dirty...as soon as it was said I felt instant disgust in myself. Let me explain myself, please.
No one else was around, it was just me and 'Bob'. (Obviously, his name wasn't Bob.) I hadn't had a coffee yet. His suit was just that little bit too vintage, meaning it hadn't been worn since his first daughters wedding in 1974 or there abouts... it was brown, and much too small and much too moth eaten. I was pretty much on the table with him, engaged in what I can only describe as a gentle wrestle.
Then Bob proceeded to be a difficult case, skin slippage, stubborn facial hair, stretched sutures...he even whacked me on the butt with a wayward arm. It was after an hour and a half of wrangling that I told him I hated him. I don't know where it came from. I obviously didn't hate him, I didn't know him and he didn't even really take me all that long to prepare...I am at all other times wholly respectful towards the newly departed!
Then a whole container full of eye caps fell off the bench. Eye caps are these little plastic eye covers we put over the deceased persons eyes, under their lids, to hold the whole illusion of tranquility together. When we die, most of the time our eyes remain open... just so you know. It's a little alarming to see at first. Anyway, the container fell on the floor, dropping hundreds of the little caps over the dirty mortuary floor. I was all "meh, whatever...until more spooky stuff happened.
About an hour after the whole incident, when Bob was safe and away in his coffin in the fridge, I received a visit from a friend who is also a really great funeral arranger. This arranger had just been to see a psychic medium, so she proceeded to tell me some amazingly crazy accurate information that the medium relayed to her. Apparently the medium she went to see cost $300 for 3 hours, but she won that 'the one' show on tv. Anyway, we had a mega conversation about ghosts and about how possible it is that Bobs ghosty would now be hating me back and plotting to haunt me for all eternity. I'm fucked.
I ran straight back into the fridge and apologised profusely to Bob. I held his hand and stroked his hair for my whole morning tea. (That sounds weird, I didn't eat in the fridge...there was no tea involved.)
So Bob, if you can use the internet and you read this, I don't hate you so please don't be mean to me. Look at how good you now look. I washed you and cleaned you up and you do look dapper in your brown suit. If you still decide to haunt me, lets play poker or we can read each other chapters of old cowboy novels, k?
Lastly, I stayed back at work to get some computer work done. I ended up being alone in the funeral home and I was sure that I heard someone talking and laughing. It went on for about three minutes, then all was silent. I freaked out because everything was pretty dark. After a few texts to my friends (they told me to get the hell out of dodge) I was going to leave, but I remembered that I hadn't had a shower yet. I usually shower at work in the staff room because the water pressure is (pardon the pun) TO FUCKING DIE FOR! I tossed up the pros and cons. Pro: clean, amazing freshness under a monsoon pressure of piping hot water vs con: Being attacked by zombies and pissed off ghouls.
I chose the haunted shower. It was amazing.