Two Funerals and a Cop Car

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.


14 responses to “Two Funerals and a Cop Car

  1. Nothing like a good drunk spoiled . . .

  2. That’s strange. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the police doing something like that – especially where folks can see it.

    Sorry about your buzz being killed.

  3. That is strange – I thought they took stuff back to a lab or something to figure out stuff like that.

    Guess that was a sobering moment…

  4. Talk about harshing a buzz. *shakes head*

  5. yeah…i agree, they shouldn’t have been doing that shit on the street.

    what if some other kid…or some drunk, post-funeral, mourners…walked into the street in front of the cop car and his tricks…THEN who would’ve been the asshole!!!

  6. Well…well…that cop’s just lucky he didn’t hit one of the drunk funeral people with his screaching car…and…yeah! Fuck that! Yeah!

  7. THAT was a bad day.

  8. I think we might be related.

  9. Um, do the cops know you can figure those things out with tire marks and math? Honest, I still have my textbooks!

    I’m sure you’re not at all surprised to know that with at least one side of my family, the drink-fest is never an after-thought but the main event. We either whoop it up for the good times or sit around and bitch. The last funeral I went to, the last thing said was “Bastard’s probably got a cell phone in there…”

  10. tysdaddy: Just kind of a crappy, surreal day all around, it was.

    Southern (in)Sanity: I think it goes without saying, we hadn’t, either. Otherwise, we might not have acted like such asshats.

    vinomom: Yup (you little punster, you.)

    derfina: I still don’t know why we ran out there. What the hell?

    Nikki: I know; they had the street blocked off to traffic, but yes, anyone could have stumbled into the street. This was before I had kids, but….

    mkh: You would have done better than the magnet guy. The cousin divorced his tactless ass, later.

    mongoliangirl: I appreciate your righteous indignation on my behalf. But I still feel like an idiot.

    faemom: For the whole damn block, apparently.

    hereinfranklin: Oh my god, I wish!

    Em: That’s what I thought, that they did it with math. (And I think maybe we need a little more Irish in the family, so these half-assed drunks aren’t the norm.)

  11. So, the moral of the story is: whenever there might be a car accident, you shouldn’t drink. Right? That’s what that guy was saying?

  12. worst buzzkill in the history of buzzkills.

  13. gnomespeak: Um, yeah….

    bluestreak: Buzzkill with a side order of self loathing.

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