A Fee-ble Attempt At Avoiding The Fees, Part 2

, , , , , | Right | March 11, 2021

We rent out our chapel for funerals with a slight discount if they’re using the crematorium, as well. One family requested a three-hour service using both but started to balk at the price, so they chopped the first hour off the service and seemed happier with the price.

Fast forward to the day of the service. I’m doing some other work when I see that the family has arrived an hour early to start. I pop my head into our office to see if they’d changed their minds about paying the larger price and it hadn’t gotten to me. Immediately, our administrator stalks off to find the family.

After some discussion with them, it turned out they’d just figured it would be fine if they came early. They were quite unhappy when they found out that they would have to pay the three-hour fee if they wanted in our chapel early. We’ve allowed leeway before with other families, but never by that much, and certainly not when it comes across as skirting our fees. 

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A Fee-ble Attempt At Avoiding The Fees

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You Know What They Say About Birds Of A Feather

, , , , , , | Related | April 22, 2020

My grandmother passed away, we had her funeral, and we went to entomb her with my grandfather. I hate social gatherings in general, so I tend to avoid talking to people unless they’re in my immediate family. However, this one nice elderly lady comes up and talks to me, telling me how much I look like my grandma when she was young. We have a lovely chat and when we leave, my mom says:

Mom: “It was so nice of you to talk to Crazy Aunt [Aunt].”

Me: “Huh? Why is she called that?”

I figured she must have had a wild youth or something.

Mom: “Because she’s crazy. Literally. She lives in an insane asylum and got a day pass for the funeral.”

It just figures that the one person I would get along with is certifiably insane.

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Paying For Real Estate Will Follow Us Into Death

, , , , , , , | Related | November 14, 2019

My grandfather recently passed away. Known for his frugality, he bought his burial plot in the cemetery at his summer home’s church when they were having some sort of sale, and he got a “super deal.” His brother-in-law and sister also bought a plot at the same time, and his brother-in-law passed six years prior to my grandfather’s death. My grandfather was a businessman and dabbled in many trades and industries and owned most of his own businesses. His most prominent one — and the one that lasted the longest and was his passion — was real estate.

We gathered around the gravesite for the burial service. Afterward, we wanted to walk to my great-uncle’s gravesite, which we could make out in the distance, but was still in view of my grandfather’s gravesite. In an effort to lighten the mood, my cousin said the following:

“Corner plot, direct line of sight from Old Uncle Jack, plenty of parking on both sides, beautiful greenery, location at his favorite church on the Cape… He really was a real estate man. Location, location, location!”

We all laughed and appreciated his humor after an emotional and somber week.

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Didn’t See “Pet Semetary”

, , , , , | Right | October 31, 2019

(I get a phone call.)

Me: “[Pet-Themed Company Name], this is [My Name].”

Customer: “Hi there. How much would it be to board two dogs?”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Customer: “I’m going on vacation and I need to board my two dogs while I’m gone.”

Me: “Sir, this is a pet crematorium.”

Customer: “Oh, dear God.”

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The Pink Death

, , , | Friendly | May 11, 2018

(It’s Mother’s day and I am visiting my grandmother’s grave. She died several years ago after a difficult battle with Alzheimer’s. I have placed a pink bouquet against her gravestone with a short message. I am also tidying up around the grave because the cemetery has an issue with people littering. I notice a woman walking by me and think nothing of it until she walks up to my grandmother’s grave.)

Me: “Did you know her?”

Woman: “No. Did you?”

Me: “Yes, she’s my grandmother. I gave her the flowers.”

Woman: “Then you should be ashamed!”

(She kicks the bouquet and starts walking away.)

Me: “What the hell was that for?”

Woman: “PINK? IN A GRAVEYARD! Are you f****** insane?!”

Me: “That’s hardly a reason to kick someone’s flowers off their grave. If you didn’t like them, you could’ve just told me, or better yet, ignored them.”

Woman: “It’s disrespectful to people who are still grieving! Nothing should be happy here. NOTHING!”

Me: “Well, I like to remember the happy times I had with her. Even when she couldn’t remember anything anymore, she still smiled whenever someone brought her something pink, and I like to think she still likes it.”

(The woman huffs and storms off, walking over several graves. I put the bouquet back and decide to warn one of the groundskeepers about her.)

Groundskeeper: “Don’t worry. We try to keep an eye out for her. She comes by every other month to bother the visitors. We’ve tried to get her banned, but her husband is buried here, and it’s hard to keep track of her with how sporadic her visits are.”

(When I visited my mum later, she told me she had also encountered the woman, and now whenever she visits, she takes a large assortment of colourful balloons, just in case the woman happens to be there, and offers her one.)

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