I can never do anything simple. Although I try, it just never pans out that way. If I imagine an outfit in my head to wear, I realize it’s still in the dirty clothes and needs to be washed. So…I wash it. No worries, thanks to the G-A-P, I still own the majority of the ’98 black watch plaid and the ’00 rose sequined jeans lines. So it’s not like I don’t own another shirt. Just can’t make things easy. Oh, and I’m also late. A lot. You feel pretty bad for J now, don’t you. Yeah, me too.
The drama today started yesterday. One of my co-worker’s parents passed away. I was ‘nominated’ to attend the funeral on behalf of our team. I sent flowers to the funeral home yesterday. (yeah for being early for something). The address I sent the flowers to was in Warrensburg, MO. I didn’t google the address for the services because I travel there for work so I was familiar with the town…but not the churches. This would be the beginning of the crazy. The services started at 230. I left my office at 145. For those of you aware of the geography…that wasn’t enough time. But if you go 85, you are only 10 minutes late. Not that I would know.
God bless my friend Heidi. I call her on the way down there and beg her to google map this place for me. I couldn’t find the address on my phone…not that I was trying. Ahem. Anyhoo…I pull into what I think is the place, only 10 minutes late. Now, I had changed coats and applied 2 layers of chapstick while driving so I could ‘tuck and roll’ out of the car and slide right in like Kramer on Seinfeld.
I did have a moment of panic…what if there wasn’t a vestibule for me to scope out the place(for those unfamiliar, that’s the place you let your kids run around in during church.;) ), what if there was just a door into the church (like JFK, Jr and Caroline’s)….that would be awkward. I bust my daydream by realizing there isn’t a car, person or hearse in the parking lot. I might have cursed a bit.
I call Heidi back and tell her ‘we’ were wrong. I swerve into the funeral home to ask for directions and stand there awkwardly for a few minutes. Of course, there are 2 services going on at the same time. Of course there are. I have awesome timing. A lady proceeds to tell me ‘Oh my, you are late’ Uh, duh. I ask for directions and she responds by verbally telling as well as turning in a circle as she acts out the directions. So helpful. She told me to head to Knob Noster by taking Hwy D to Hwy YY and then asked me if I knew where Chuck’s Bait and Tackle was. Um, no. I felt like I was Danny Davito in My Cousin Vinny. I jump in the car and call Heidi again. I told her I felt awful because I was representing the team and I was not going to make it. I told her I was just going to head to Knob Noster and look for it. Pretty sure she was judging me when she said ‘you are just going to drive there???’ Sure, what the hell. I’m already out here… I don’t want to get bad karma.
As I am talking to her and my friend Jill, I tell them both ‘how big could Knob Noster really be?’. Um, turns out..quite big. I ran up on a cemetary and it turns out the be the one for the burial. Previous conversations with my co-workers included me just going to the service and not the burial. And yet… I have missed the service (as much as I wanted to meet Chuck and see his tackle) and am smack dab across from the burial. Ain’t that a kick in the pants.
After waiting 45 minutes in a field like a creeper, I see the procession. I pull in behind the last giant 2 ton truck with ‘Eat Meat’ mud flaps. Side note: it is not awesome to be the last car in the procession and have squeaky brakes in a cemetary. Not awesome at all.
I pull in and instantly make a new friend. As everyone has bowed their heads, this man with a sweet mullet and a Dodge Spirit with a license plate that said Ike, leans over and whispers (in the loudest church whisper) ‘Are you related ?’ Really, Ike? Look at me. I’m dressed in all black, I’m the only diverse person here and I’m the only one NOT wearing wranglers and carhart jackets.
I say my hello’s and feel good about making it to see the family. I text the girls and tell them my karma is gonna be ok. I take a little walk around the car to make sure I’m not going to hit anyone ‘living or deceased’. I start to make a 34 point turn to get out of there and am pretty sure I ‘bumped’ somebody. As in someone with a tombstone on top of them.