Writing the eulogy. I was going to leave it until 5 minutes before the service, like I usually do with things that need to be done ahead of time, but hey, I am two days ahead of myself. But, I promise you I will change it 9876.2 times before it ever gets read.
I didn't really have to do any work, all those that responded did it for me, much better than I could have. I am just the messenger. Plus I put in a little of my own stuff. I hope everyone will like it. It was hard to do.
I have been trying to "clean up" for the service. I bought a "pant suit." I couldn't show up in jeans and a hoodie, so I bought something nice for a change. Of course the sleeves were too long and so were the pants. But it fit, and looked somewhat slimming. Slimming is what I was after. I look like a executive...of what? ... maybe a seniors centre...I don't know, but I sure feel like bossing someone around when I'm wearing it.
So, I was looking at the long sleeves and long pants, and going gawwwwblahhhhshit. I hate hemming clothes. So, I started to hem and haw...heh..and decided hey ...why don't I bring this to a reputable hemming place and let them do this shit? Normally I hem my own stuff, and the outcome is that one pant leg is much shorter than the other one, then I re do it and it still is all f'kd up, and I finally cut the hem off and let it fray...and fagetaboutit. But these dud's were to fancy dancy for that.
So I took it some place ...I don't know where...Stitching are Us? ... something like that. It's a new place in the mall next door owned by two newly immigrated Chinese people, who don't speak so good anglais.
I went in their shop, and the man was ironing stuff on a computer table, and the wife was at the front counter. I asked her if they did alterations, and she said..."yay"...then she said "what you got"...as she grabbed the bag from my hand. I said it's a pant suit. She said...pan su? I said yes, a pant suit, pants and a jacket. ohhhhh she said...okay. She took it out of the bag, and said...wa you want? I said 1/2" off the sleeves of the jacket, and I'm not sure about the pants. In the blink of on eye she had a clothes pin on the sleeve of the jacket to indicate where it was supposed to be shortened , and then she said..tak off pants. Blink... I said take off pants where? Ofver by door she said...the door? As far as I could see that led back into the mall. Trying to be polite, I said...where are the change rooms, she threw up her arm so fast she almost knocked me over...and pointed to a little changing room beside the doorway.
So, I went into this little teenie cubicle the size of ...well, just about nothing. After trying to take off my jeans and put on my new pants all squinched in the cube, I almost had a panic attack. I took the bag the new pants were in and did a few deep breaths in it so I wouldn't pass out, and got the hell out of there. Once I was out, she said...get in mirr! Mirror, where is their a mirror? ovva dar..mir! hup hup... He arm flew up again and almost poked my eye out for theloveofadick. I get to the mirror with my long pants dragging on the floor, and before I actually get there she comes at me with a huge pin. I measure..she says..okay says I just keep the pin away from my eyes. She gets down rolls up my pants, sticks in the pin, and say..dat okay then? I said, I don't know, I am wearing flat shoes, and with these pants I will be wearing about 2 inche heals. Well, now I have gone and done it...SHE is flying off, saying..I not know if you not got shoes.....then she takes off HER sandal with a heal about 2" inches, and says..put on!..and she means business. Well it was one of those sandals with the toe thing in the middle, and I was wearing socks, so I couldn't get it on....and it was still warm...and I was starting to puke. I finally stood on top of the "warm" sandal while she measured. Finally we came to an agreement. I went back in the entsie cube and changed. When I came out she grabbed the pants, took them back to the counter, and said cash or debit? Huh?... I have to pay before the work is done? I guess so, because I wasn't about to argue with her anymore or she would have kung fued me, I am sure. So, I paid her, and then she said, "bye bye git out" as she once more lifted her arm and pointed towards the door. Did I just hear that right...bye bye git out? I think I did. So, I said..pardon me...and lifted her big ole arm again, pointed to the door and said bye bye git out. Finally I realized she was trying to show me the way out, because I must have looked disoriented after having cubicleitious. I walked back to my car in a daze wondering if I wouldn't be wearing jeans and a hoodie to the memorial after all.