You Kill ‘Em, We Grill ‘Em

Heard the following story from a friend who didn’t want to post it to his blog, just in case his client didn’t approve, so I offered this space as an alternative venue…

So I get a call last week. It’s from someone who knows someone I know. They need help installing their DSL. I can do that. I don’t pay attention to what the name of the place is.

I take down their address, file it, don’t think about it till this morning as I’m driving there. I get there.

I read the sign. It’s a crematorium.

I go inside, note people in suits. An older man asks me if he could get around me. He’s picking up someone’s ashes. I am wearing jeans and a blue, button down shirt with some rather loud (red and blue) triangles on it.

I wonder if that’s why they put me in the room with the dead bodies? Actually I know better. They put me in there because that’s the room the phone line comes into the building. And anyway, I only got to see a foot before the woman came in and drew a curtain across the room.

So anyway, DSL. Dead bodies on gurneys.

I’ll be back again tomorrow.