Saturday, June 6, 2009

In which I love my job and over-use parentheses

Warning: I did not attempt to write this very clearly. I wrote it exactly the way I would have said it, and do not feel like making it easier for y'all to read. Sorry

So, it isn't my weekend on call at the mortuary, but there was a family that came in yesterday like 5 minutes before we closed to get prices on a full traditional Catholic service (okay, so since I'm the Irish (raised by a) Catholic and no one else at the funeral home is Catholic (or knows anything about the religion apparently) I usually get to do all of the Hispanic (usually Catholic, but I'm not trying to sound stereotype-y) arrangements, which would be this family that walked through the door) and I didn't want to make them see a different director if they ended up choosing our funeral home (nor did I want to hear about how much work it is to arrange not only the funeral (Mass) but a fracking Rosary as well (yes, I work with a complainer or two)), so I gave the grandson of the deceased my cell phone number so that if his mom had any questions or wanted to make arrangements they could just call me directly.

(Side note: our funeral home is not the cheapest in town, but we aren't the most expensive either, and I am honest with families about this when they are shopping for prices. I also am very sure that I am the best funeral director out there (although I dont say that to families) and tend to keep price-shopping families even when they find a cheaper place to have a funeral. I dont know why that is really, I just decide its because of my bad-assness and level of professionalism (frack, I'm concieted), and damnit, families just like me.)

Okay, back to it: So, not 15 minutes after the family (and I) leave the mortuary does my phone ring with a number that I don't recognize. And yes, it's the grandson (who, if I can just let you all know, reminds me a LOT of what I imagined Jacob from the Twilight books to have looked like before the movie ruined my imagination of him) and he is telling me that they liked me (surprised?) and that they wanted to come in to make the arrangements on Saturday afternoon.

And that's what I just did, made arrangements with this family (the grandson was the only English speaker, so he translated for his mom and aunt, making me have to look at him most of the time, and let me say, for such a young guy he really was very man-esque in his wife-beater and jeans) and now I'm getting ready to go home and was just thinking this: I love my job.

P.S. Yes, I, a 29-year-old, have read those Twilight books. Also, I loved them.


thecheckoutgirl said...

I just wandered over here and ended up reading every entry. Lovelovelove it, so far! Keep it up.

Doll Face said...

wow, thanks!