Inappropriate Behavior

I have been having a difficult time in coming up with an idea, or topic, for this next blog post. And this is what I’ve decided on…I’m in the mood to tell a good story. Now, some of the best stories, in my opinion, involve self-deprecating humor. Some of the most idiotic things I have done have made the best stories; and I am not one who takes herself too seriously. I’ve literally had to ask my husband and my brother for the best ‘incident’. That is how many times I have acted like a complete moron.

There is a song by the Bare Naked Ladies called ‘One Week’. And within that song, there is a line that says, "I’m the kind of guy that laughs at a funeral." Well, I had never considered myself that kind of person…until one unsuspecting day. I don’t know whose funeral it was, but I remember I went with my Mom. Let me digress for a moment. Awkward silences make me laugh. I don’t know why, but they do. So when the preacher asked the family and friends to bow their heads for a moment of silence in honor of the deceased…I lost it. Now, if it had been a short silence, I would have been fine. But the preacher must have fallen asleep at the podium because the ‘moment’ of silence turned into what felt like a bloody lifetime of silence. All of a sudden, the laughter overwhelmed me as I tried to stifle it. Trying to stifle your laughter is almost worse than rearing your head back and letting it go. I was making an amalgamation of weird hog like grunting noises and snake hisses. My eyes began to water as I tried to hold it all in. My mother at this point, noticed the commotion I was causing and began elbowing me in the ribs and silently screaming through her teeth (it actually can be done and my mother is a pro) for me to shut up. This, of course, only made things worse. The hog grunts got louder, the snake hisses got longer and my whole body began to shake. Thanks Mom.

The people in the pews around me eventually began to notice and were giving me looks straight from the Devil himself. A lady in front of me turned and said, "You should be ashamed of yourself." And I was. How was I going to explain to all of these people, that I truly meant no disrespect without furthering the depth of the grave I had begun digging?! Maybe I wouldn’t have to. Maybe my Mom would be so upset and ashamed of me that she would hurry me through the church corridor and out the door as soon as the service was over. At this point, you may be asking yourself…did that indeed happen? Did she get out of the horrible situation virtually unscathed? No. No I did not. My mother decided to hang around after the service to partake in the many types of food and beverage that was provided for us in the church kitchen. Again. Thanks Mom.

Now I was stuck with several dozen people I did not know, who all secretly hated me. Looking back now, I realize that I should have left well enough alone. I should have just kept my head down and ate my macaroni casserole. But the desperation to try and not seem like a total asshole prevailed and I began to try to explain to the people nearest me that I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, that I was sure their Nana or Aunt, or second cousin twice removed was a wonderful person. Most smiled and nodded and continued on eating the disgusting Jello pudding while others out right ignored me. I don’t blame the people in the latter category, by the way. Boy I was wearing that shovel out. FINALLY, we left. And in case you are wondering, yes I did get an ear full of a lecture on the car ride home. The entire car ride home. And if memory serves me right, it was about a two hour drive. Every funeral I’ve attended since then, I get a shudder inducing fear when the words, "let’s have a moment of silence in honor of the deceased" are uttered. Moral of the story? I should probably never attend another funeral…or any other serious event that may contain an extended moment of silence.