So this one time we were at a funeral that was actually 2 funerals because right after his uncle’s memorial (which we were late for; so late that he got changed in the car, and he’s 6 foot and 250 pounds and it was a Mustang hatchback), we went and buried his grandma’s ashes. Grandma died six months before, right around the time the uncle developed the annoying-as-fuck chest cough that was really lung cancer (and later I felt bad about being annoyed). So we said bye to the uncle and put grandma in the ground and went to eat sandwiches, as was the custom of the time.
We’re eating sandwiches in the dead uncle’s condo, and sneaking out to smoke when the relatives get to be too much (like the cousin’s husband who’s trying to sell the other grandma some healing magnets he peddles, seriously, at a funeral for the love of god, the classless bastard). And finally the father in law switches from beer to the hard stuff, and Owen decides hell yeah, let’s all drink, he’s going to put the fun back in funeral and we drink.
The rye’s all gone by the supper hour. The cousin from California goes out with the father in law to scout out a liquor store, and when they get back they say hey, something is going on out on the street, there’s cop cars and everything.
We all go running out to the little street and sure as hell, there’s cop cars. One keeps roaring past, screeching to a stop at the end of the block. And we’re looking at each other and we’re trying to wrap our heads around what the hell’s going on here and we’re feeling just plain weird and every time the car comes to a stop, we start clapping. And cheering. And yelling out numbers, like we’re judging figure skating: “4.2. He didn’t stick the landing.”
And this guy comes up to my brother in law and he’s pissed and he says what the fuck’s wrong with you people? A little kid got hit by a car here and the cops are trying to figure out how fast the car was going and you people are fucked up. The little balloon of happy that we’d half-inflated goes flying around, empty. The brother in law gets defensive, says hey man, we just buried half my mom’s family today, cut us some slack. And the guy doesn’t really seem to give a shit, and we walk back to the condo, and we don’t say fuck all. We just walk back in and grab our drinks and anyone who was lucky enough to have a buzz on, before, is sad to find that it’s gone, now.